


Conflicted

by DevilRising



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boys Kissing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Frottage, Halloween, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, POV Draco, Party, Quidditch, Room of Requirement, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Strained Friendships, Virginity, Wet Dream, halloween party, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-06-23 16:11:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 63,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19704868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilRising/pseuds/DevilRising
Summary: Draco returns to Hogwarts for Eighth Year feeling miserable. His life takes a turn when he is paired with Harry for an assignment, and everything changes. But will Draco always be so conflicted about Potter?





	1. Changes

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this 8th Year Hogwarts fic.

I roll my eyes at the head of shocking black hair across the platform. Its messiness and atrocious styling can only be one thing. Or rather, one person. Potter. Potter with his stupid little friends. My stomach suddenly clenches, painfully, but I ignore it and focus on the distasteful boy again. He’s laughing his head off at some obnoxious, inside joke that only his friends would understand. _Potter looks quite pleased with himself, like he actually_ did _something during the war._ He may have killed Voldemort, but he didn’t do any of his “quest” without help. He just took the credit for everything everyone else has done. Yet here he is, seemingly oblivious to the strangers around him, living his life like nothing’s changed. I sigh inwardly, cringing that his life is still perfect, utterly unaffected by the war.

Potter still lives with that awful group of lowly Weasley’s, he has brand new robes and equipment just like every year, and his life is still splattered across all the magazines and papers. Whereas for me, not a thing has stayed the same. My father is in Azkaban for his crimes, and my mother is destined to spend the rest of her sad life locked up in St Mungos, battling a whole range of weird things. I am the only one living at Malfoy Manor, not that I spend much time there as it is. I can’t stand the deafening silence of the rooms, how it drowns you in your own loneliness. The ever present cold that drifts in from the walls chills me to the bones, giving me a gnawing feeling of abandonment.

Someone shouts my name and pulls me out of my embarrassingly deep trance. It’s Pansy, calling me onto the train. It must’ve pulled in to the station while I was inside my own head, occupying my own thoughts. I sigh and board the train, walking down the long aisle to the carriage of her choosing. She, of course, chose the one at the very end of the corridor so no one could hear our conversation. As I open the heavy sliding door and step inside, I sweep my eyes over the carriages near ours. Content with I see, I sit down and face Pansy. I can feel her staring at me, but I don’t pay it much attention. Instead, I force her out of it.

“So Pansy, how are you?” The basic inquiry rolls off my tongue, and I’m pleased that I still sound put together. _At least I appear normal._

“Oh come on Draco,” she tisks at me. “You know that I’m absolutely fine. The real question is, how are you faring?”

I roll my eyes before answering her question. “I’m quite bored, honestly.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“Oh, shough off Pansy. I don’t want to talk about that,” I state, before leaping into a conversation about Quidditch. She gets the message, and happily takes up the small talk. Eventually, I zone out, and her light conversation fades to background noise.

I stare blankly into the corridor, tuning everything out until I’m draped in silence, like a cape. I’m slowly drowning, burying myself deep into the heavy folds of all my hidden insecurities and doubts. My mind reels under the water-like pressure, and I feel my lungs wanting to burst. My body willing my mind to give out. But my brain doesn’t succumb. I rip myself out of the illusion. Just enough to break the spiral down, and start floating to the surface again. No one else understands what I’m thinking or feeling, I hide my emotions too well. Too easily. Pansy was the one person I might’ve trusted after last year, yet I can’t help but to push her away. Can’t help but to seclude myself, and be wary of everyone, and everything, around me. Pansy hasn’t done anything wrong to me, but that doesn’t stop me feeling a strong sting of betrayal. I feel myself starting to go under again, and forcefully pull myself to the surface. The room around me feels like it’s going to explode with my pent up emotion and tension. I glance at Pansy sitting opposite me, at her peaceful face with her head resting softly against the window. _She must’ve fallen asleep._

I gather my surroundings again, noticing that all the carriages around me are totally full, and listening as laughter flutters to my ears. I look out the window, and see that we are far from the station. The platform must be kilometres behind us, out of view across the rolling hills. The train speeds along the lush grass, the constant sound of the tracks beneath somewhat comforting. I watch as we go over a rickety bridge, and stare at the river we are crossing above. I gaze at the ripples gliding over the surface, the supposedly bottomless dark blue, and the watery reflection of the Hogwarts Express. And then we are back to green hills and flowers of many colours littering the ground.

I jerk around from the enrapturing window as I hear a faint knock on the carriage door. The trolley-lady stands at the door, her old face cocked to one side and splitting into a polite smile. Suddenly gripped with childish excitement, I get up and ask for two of the chocolate frogs, hand over the money, and sit back down. I open one of the frogs immediately, and grab ahold of it so it doesn’t jump out of reach. The last thing I’d want is for it to jump out the window, like I know Potter’s did in first year. Quickly clearing my mind of the abomination of humanity and wizard-kind, I bite the head of my squirming frog off. I impatiently pull the card out of the wrapper and roll my eyes at the now-familiar figure of Andros the Invincible. Since I have been collecting these cards since I was eleven, I have about fifty of Andros. I shove the second, unopened chocolate into my pocket, remembering that I’ll need to change into my robes pretty soon if I want to avoid the long lines. I look across at Pansy once again and mutter an apology to her sleeping form as I retrieve my robes from my bag, and stalk out of the carriage and into the bathroom which is next to our carriage.

When I duck back in, I gently shake Pansy awake and tell her to get dressed. She thanks me and walks to the bathroom. I sit back down in my seat and, instead of looking out the window, I glance out into the corridor again. I take note of who’s sitting close to me, and if it’s worth trying to eavesdrop into any conversations. That’s when I see him. I scratch the back of my head and sharpen my ears. Potter’s saying something about changes that the eighth grade will have to deal with this year. _Obviously he’s not saying anything interesting._ I scold myself. As I turn back into my carriage to stare out the window again, I see him turn in my direction. He raises one eyebrow on his tan face and laughs. We are sitting facing each other and two carriages down on opposites sides of the aisle. I have no way to get out of his field of view, and I decide to sneer at Potter instead. His face goes sharp and then Granger pokes her head out of their carriage to see what he’s looking at. When she sees me she shakes her head and darts back inside. I go back to gazing out the window, not letting anything expose my cold exterior.

~~~~~~~~

_Hogwarts is in worse shape than I thought it would be._ The castle is practically in ruins.The Astronomy Tower is in crumbled heaps, the Quidditch Pitch, while no longer burnt to a crisp, hasn’t been repaired beyond the cleanup. Spirals of cracks run up and down stone walls, making the centuries old building look dangerously close to collapsing. I know better, of course. I can feel the magic that’s been used to make sure the castle stays upright. That doesn’t stop me from pointing out the chances of it toppling over to Pansy and all the younger students. I smirk and then go silent as Professor McGonagall glowers at me. Although I foolishly imagined that the castle would be the same as before the war, I keep that thought silent. I don’t want to give away my surprise to anyone. Because that would mean I’m no longer in the loop, which I’m not. Since my father is locked up, I know as little as everyone else does.

I’m startled when the younger grades are instructed to walk into the Great Hall and sit at their designated tables, leaving the remaining of the eighth graders clustered outside. The year group is drastically smaller than it was last year. A lot of the students have been withdrawn due to the Battle, parents not willing to send their children back. Others have been pulled out due to Death Eater parents, wisely thinking that their kids won’t be safe inside the castle. Slytherin is rather small because of this, and I don’t know how my house is going to win anything with our small numbers.

I tune into what McGonagall is saying, and listen attentively. Because I overheard Potter on the train, it’s clear that there will be some dramatic changes for us. _There isn’t supposed to be an eighth grade at all, so that puts my cohort in a word position._ I contemplate the possible changes, before giving up and listening to McGonagall’s speech.

“As you can clearly see, the number of pupils in Eighth Grade are rather diminished. This is mainly caused by the war, and parents fearing for their children’s safety. I assure you that there are charms threaded throughout the entire castle, ensuring that you are safer than ever before,” the Headmistress drones on. I’m not interested in the slightest about this, and stop listening for a second. I scan over the heads of my peers and note who’s here and who isn’t. Most of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor are the same, with about a third of Hufflepuff missing. _Too scared to come back._ And then there’s Slytherin.

“Now that that’s out of the way, I would like to address the things that will be different for you this year.” My head whips up at this, and suddenly I’m paying attention again.

“The committee of teachers and myself have decided that we don’t want you to interfere with the runnings of the rest of the school, meaning that things may be a little strange. As you know, in seventh grade there are the Prefects, Head Girl, and Head Boy, as well as the Quidditch team Captains. The students receiving these roles are obviously younger than you, putting you in a rather odd position. Due to this, the committee has decided that we will give four of you a chance of leadership called House Representatives. There will be one per house, and they will have leadership over eighth year, along with the leaders of seventh grade. The rest of you must listen to all authority, but only House Representatives can take house points. We have had this same conversation with the leadership of seventh year,” McGonagall finishes.

_Well this is interesting._ I muse to myself. _More leadership positions…_ My brain goes whirling with the candidates for Slytherin Representative. First, Pansy. She’s responsible, yet she isn’t particularly great at anything. She is fairly average when it comes to grades. Secondly I think of Theodore Nott. He is exceptional at quidditch, and fairly good with classes. However, given his history of detentions, he seems unlikely. My mind continues much the same throughout the whole house. I have no idea who the professors might’ve chosen. I exhale silently and focus in on what is being said again.

_~~~~~~~~_

Once we eat and leave for our dormitories, I remember that our _entire grade_ shares a common room now. I am absolutely bewildered by this ridiculous decision. Do they really believe that _Hufflepuffs_ will survive sharing a common room and dormitories with _Slytherins?_ Taking note of the passageways and shortcuts to get to the common room faster, I realise where the dorms are situated.

“I can live with this,” I remark in my head. The common room sits right around the corner to the secret passage into HoneyDukes, and then into Hogsmeade. My face cracks into a cunning smile as I think of the easy access to the town, and all the opportunities to sneak out of the castle. I hum to myself again, and step through the entrance, which is a newly-made stone archway. I turn to look for the portrait to enter the password, but instead of a painting I see a suit of armour. It’s visor is up, and a lever is located inside, currently pulled down due to the constant stream of people entering and leaving.

“Sneaky,” I mutter under my breath.

Once inside the common room, I’m rather underwhelmed. I don’t know what I expected, but it definitely wasn’t this.

Since, obviously, there is more than just one House in this room, the colours are shockingly neutral. Walls are covered in canvas white paint, and is decorated with light wooden tables, floor boards, and cabinets. Paintings are on every wall, all of them showing rolling fields or beaches at various stages of the day. Pale purple and blue sofas are spread throughout the diamond-shaped room. Fireplaces are already roaring, with people reading in the armchairs across from them.

“It’s actually rather clever of the committee, decorating the room with neutral colours save for the blue. No one would fight the Ravenclaws over a sofa, unlike any of the other houses.” I mutter to myself underneath my breath. I hate the feeling I get when _someone else_ has done a good job at something.

I finish gazing around and walk up the left staircase to where the boys’ dorms are. I twist the door knob and tentatively push the door open. My mouth falls open before I even realise that it’s happened. The room’s stunning. Dark wooden floors, black leather couches, bookshelves that are bursting, and shades of green everywhere. It’s just what I imagined and was hoping for. I hastily close my mouth, making sure no one sees my surprise. Thankfully, there is no one else in here yet. There are only a handful of beds, all of which are made with green covers and drapings, and more importantly, all unoccupied. I prance over to the bed beneath the window and throw myself onto the mattress. I hurriedly sit up again, nervous that someone could’ve walked in and seen me like that. I gaze through the window and see that it looks over the lake. I smile to myself, glad that at least _something_ is similar to the Slytherin Commons.

I jolt as someone pushes the door open and paces inside. He is facing back into the stairwell, softly conversing with someone else. When he turns back around I’m shocked to see that it’s Potter standing in the archway.

“What are _you_ doing here,” I spit towards him.

“Going to my dormitory,” he calmly replies, not rising to my bait.

“Well, as you can _clearly_ see, this is Slytherin’s dorms,” I try, dripping my voice with sarcasm.

“Well, as it has _clearly_ escaped your notice,” Potter mimics me, “there is a door opposite this one leading to the other houses’ dorms.” He laughs at me and crosses the room, opening a second door. He looks back at me with a glint in his eyes, and then he’s gone. Through the door into another dormitory. I sigh to myself as someone else steps into Slytherin dorms. It’s Weasley. Of course it is. I roll my eyes at his hopeless face and incline my head to the other door. Weasley smiles at me, thanking me. And then he realises that it’s me, and his face scrunches up. He races through the second door and towards Potter, getting as far away from me as possible.

“Well, that was weird,” my brain supplies. I ignore the sharp pain in my stomach and search for my bags. Desperately trying not to think about the fact that Potter didn’t try to argue, and that Weasley remained absolutely silent. I return to the task at hand. I find my bags stacked in a corner of the room a few minutes later, and carry them over to the bed I’ve claimed. I unpack the contents, carefully folding and hanging my robes and clothes. I then unload the textbooks and other equipment I’ve brought and stack them under my bed and into my trunk. I then take out my few personal items. I put my toiletry bag on the bedside table, along with a couple of my favourite books. As I finish unpacking, the dorm door creaks open again. A couple of the other Slytherin boys step into the room and go about claiming beds and talking. Instead of joining them, I get up and leave.

I’m no longer the Slytherin Prince, not since my father foolishly chose me over the Dark Lord. I don’t know what came over him, we all could have been slaughtered. _But we weren’t…_ The thoughts consume me as I glide down the stairs and out of the Common Room.

~~~~~~~~

It’s been four days since we arrived at the castle, and we are about to head off to our first classes for the semester. At least, that’s what we were supposed to be doing. Instead, McGonagall calls all of the school into the Dining Hall. We walk in and settle at our respective tables. She stands up at the front, and starts speaking.

“As you are all well aware by now, this year is quite unusual for us at Hogwarts. We have an Eighth Year for the first time. This means that we have to slightly adjust things to make this year work smoothly. In order to do this, the School Administration has decided to create a new leadership role within Eighth Year. These roles will be called ‘House Representatives’ and there will be one for each House. Now, I know I’ve already been over this, but _some of you_ weren’t paying attention. Don’t worry, I’m not going to bore you all with this speech again. Instead, I’m now going to reveal who these four people will be.”

Whispers shoot around the hall, everyone conspiring and holding their breath. All of us are wondering who will be selected.

“The House Representative for Ravenclaw is… Anthony Goldstein!” A round of applause echoes throughout the hall. He stands up from his table and quickly makes his way to the head table. McGonagall clears her throat, commanding silence.

“For House Gryffindor, the Representative is… Harry Potter!” No one is surprised, and you can tell through the unenthusiastic clapping. He too, stands up and walks to the front of the room. My eyes linger on him, taking in how happy he is, regardless of the lack of surprise. _Stupid, oblivious Gryffindors._

“Hufflepuff’s Representative is… Susan Bones!” This, however, takes a lot of people by surprise. Including me. I would’ve thought the title belonged to Hannah Abott, who is much more well-rounded. Before I can think this over, the headmistress is speaking again.

“The final House Representative, for Slytherin, is… Draco Malfoy!”

My head spins in the dead silence of the Dining Hall. People are staring at me, and I don’t know how to react. I was the last person I expected to get this title. I shakily stand up, and walk confidently to the head table. I can hear the crowd muttering to each other, wondering how in hell this came to be. I don’t blame them. And then I’m standing there, in front of everyone, feeling hundreds of glares resting on me.

“If I could invite the Heads of House to pin the badges onto these Representatives, I would love that.” The teachers stand up and walk over to us, each holding a shiny, black brooch. Professor Slughorn happily approaches me, pinning the badge onto my robes. He nods at me and then stands at my back. I feel eyes on me, and I turn to my right. Potter is staring at me, confusion etched onto his face. I sneer at him, and he hurriedly turns back to the audience. McGonagall finishes her speech about our roles in the school, and the rules we have to follow and enforce on the others. She then closes the assembly, and sends us off to our classes.

~~~~~~~~

My first class for the year happens to be Defence Against the Dark Arts, and I make my way quickly down the Serpentine Corridor. When I arrive at Classroom 3C, I push the door open and step inside. Talking halts, and heads twist to look at the newcomer. They take me in, and then turn back to whoever they were talking to. The room fills with chatter again, and I find a desk near the back. I pull the chair out and place my parchment and books onto the table. Sitting down, I think about what just unfolded. K slipped silently into a room, people noticed, went silent, and went back to normal. No glaring, insults, or, anything else. _That’s rather strange…_ A hiss startles me out of my mind and I glance around to my left. Potter has his shockingly green eyes on me, and smirks.

“You’re definitely going to fail this class if you keep doing that.” I can hear the amusement in his voice, waiting for me to reply.

“You don’t know the half of it!” I snap, and fix him with a glare.

“Yeah right.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“I don’t do charity work.” His eyes glisten as he says that, alive with mischief. I scowl at him and turn to face the front. _Charity work…_

I push Potter to the back of my conscious just as the new Professor walks in. It’s a woman with red hair braided over her shoulder and pale skin. Her face is young, but her hands give her away as being in her late fifties at least.

“Good morning class. My name is Professor Falco, and I will be taking you for Defence Against the Dark Arts this year.” She looks at us down her crooked nose, observing our reactions to her. Seemingly pleased, she cracks a smile and starts the lesson.

~~~~~~~~

Towards the end of class, Professor Falco announces that we will have an assignment due at the end of the term. The class predictably groans, and she stands at the front of the room with a gleam in her eye. Like she knows something we don’t. _Oh no._

“Now, this assignment requires you to work in pairs. You are to complete this research activity, and then create a short play demonstrating whatever defence you’ve studied.” She pauses, glancing around the room in anticipation.

“And no. You can not choose your partner.” The class once again complains, and the professor stands there, unshaken. Falco goes on to tell us about the assignment, and how to complete it in the best way possible. While she speaks, she hands out pieces of parchment that say everything she is explaining. Then, she starts reading off the pairs she’s made.

“Susan Bones and Eloise Midgen. Dean Thomas and Wayne Hopkins.” The pairs are extremely random, and each one takes the class by surprise. The pairs stand up and move next to each other at the back of the room. I swallow hard, wondering who I’m going to be paired with.

“Kevin Wentwhistle and Tracey Davis. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.” The room fills with a mix between laughter and shock. _Of course…_ I turn my bitter gaze towards the idiot, and see him gently shaking his head. We both go to stand at the same time, and the room becomes silent. We walk towards the wall closest to us, and stand awkwardly. Professor Falco draws the attention back to her, and continues reading out pairs.

“Seamus Finnigan and Ernie McMillan…”

A nudge on my upper arm drags my attention to Potter. My stomach twists sharply and I pull a face.

“If you really hate me that much, go ask to be changed,” Potter drawls at me, annoyance dripping off his voice.

“No. It’s not that,” I say, clarifying. “Mind you, a new partner might be nice.” I can’t help but tack on a sarcastic note.

“Hey!”

“Enough boys. If you two can’t get along then I’ll just make you do more things together until you can!” Falco’s voice cuts through our quick fight, leaving me staring exasperatedly at her and Potter.

_Oh boy. This is going to be a long term._


	2. Learning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry learn to get along with each other, play quidditch, and discover new things about themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support on the previous chapter. Sorry this one took so long to be released. Enjoy!

The faint scratching of my quill against the heavy parchment of my DADA assignment is oddly comforting. I don’t know when I turned to writing things down, in the dark and silence, but it feels like something you shouldn't do. The Curse of the Bogies is a spell of the curse variety. When cast, it gives the target a nasty cold and very runny nose. I try to think about what to write next, but I’m no good with introduction paragraphs. Potter was supposed to do this part, but he is making me do it. I sigh, and decide to do more later. Since I’ve finished writing, I pull open my bedside drawer and place my quill, ink, and parchment into it. I then slide the drawer shut before locking it with a complex locking charm. Frustrated with Potter for being a lazy arse, I open the curtains surrounding my bed. Light streams in through the window, and I’m temporarily blinded. 

“Thought you’d never surface from your bed.” I look up and see Blaise smirking at me across the room from his bed. 

“Yeah well I had to get some work done.” My response is short and slightly annoyed sounding. 

“Sure you did. Sure you weren’t just wanking about Potter all morning,” he sneers. I roll my eyes and pack my bag for the day with the books I’ll need. 

He infuriates me. Not as much as Potter, and in a completely different way, but still. While Potter’s arrogance burns in my chest and makes me want to scream, Blaise’s makes me want to rip my hair out in front of everyone. To think we used to be friends… I stand up quietly and cross the dormitory. I grip the door handle, pull it towards me and exit the room swiftly. I glide down the stairs and into the common room, before throwing myself into one of the purple sofas in front of a fire. Realising that I should probably write more than two basic sentences, I settle in and start working.

~~~~~~~~

A whole day later and I’m preparing to head to bed. The clock on the common room wall says that it’s just past eleven, and since I have another full day of classes tomorrow I decide I’d better get my sleep. I close my book on magical creatures, and walk steadily up the staircase and into my dorm. Glancing at Blaise to make sure he’s asleep, I draw the emerald curtains around my bed and get changed into my night wear. I look at my reflection and take in how I look. My blond hair is still neat and shiny, but my face is tired and pale and the clothes hang limply off my toned body. The dark blue of the pyjamas doesn’t help anything either, and I sigh to myself. I pick up my wand from my bed where I threw it, and cast a wordless cleaning charm to brush and whiten my teeth. I sit down and draw open the curtains again, just about to slide into bed. The door is tentatively pushed inwards, and a head of curly black hair shoves it’s way into the slight crack. 

“What are you doing here?!” I whisper frustratedly to Potter. I now know for a fact that there’s a spell you can say before opening the door to go into your House’s room, and glare at the boy.

“I needed to ask you something.” Potter stammers out his reply as if it pains him to admit it.

“Well, spit it out quickly then!”

He huffs indignantly before replying, “What chapter of our textbook talks about the Curse of the Bogies?”

“Why do you need to know that? I have been the only one doing any work on our assignment so far, or have you decided you’d help?!”

“Malfoy, it is also my assignment, and while I don’t care if I fail I know that you do. Besides, it’s interesting.” He shrugs and steps out of the doorway and further into the room. 

“Hmph. It’s Chapter 8.” I draw out the response unnecessarily.

“Ok. Also, could you remind me what the incantation is?”

“It’s Mucus ad Nauseam. We really need to spend time working on this together, don’t we?”

“Yeah. Thanks, I guess.” His response makes my stomach twist, and once he’s gently closed the door behind his retrieving form, I flop onto my bed and bury myself under my covers. 

~~~~~~~~

Even in my sleep, Potter plagues my life. I can’t escape him, even when I’m unconscious my mind obsesses over him. I’m dreaming about him, of him playing Quidditch. I’m there too. It’s Slytherin vs Gryffindor, and we’re winning. The Chasers are flying up and down the pitch, ducking and dodging and scoring. The Beaters are wildly flinging their bats, knocking back bludgers left, right, and center. Each team’s Keeper is hovering before the rings, eyes on full alert watching the others whip dangerously through the air. 

And then there’s the Seekers. Potter and I are on opposite ends of the pitch, scouring the sky for a tiny, and deadly fast golden ball. Both of us are diving every so often, fooling the other into thinking we’ve found it. I rake my eyes in every direction, almost straining with the effort. That’s when I see movement out of the corner of my left eye. I instead turn my head to the right and take off in that direction. I can hear the Snitch’s wings beating next to my head, but I never look at it. I can now see Potter chasing after me, seeking the right to victory for his team. He pulls up behind me, and I can feel his gaze linger on my every move, looking for the ball. But I’m dragging him in the other direction, away from his sought after prize. And he’s falling for it. Thinking he’s so clever all the while making an utter fool of himself. I then grab the front of his broom from behind me and spin it around, sending the boy whirling to the ground. Turning my own broom the other way, I start to chase after the Snitch. The golden streak never leaves my sight, and I twist and turn around the other players. The crowd is cheering me on, and Slytherin is going to win. I reach forward with my right my hand, my left still on the broom, steadying it so I don’t fall. I make to grab the ball and pull it from the sky, but I come back with nothing. I stare at my hand and then the spot where the Snitch was, utterly confused. Then the crowd stands and starts cheering wildly again. I look around me and see Potter holding his hand up high. I can just make out a streak of gold in between his thumb and the palm of his hand. He faces me and an amused smile lights his face. That’s it. My broom drops from my hand, and I’m rushing to meet the ground. 

~~~~~~~~

I wake up in a cold sweat, sheets tangled and night clothes twisted. What was that…? I yawn and stretch my back and my arms. I sigh at the nightmare I just woke up from, and rise to my feet. I change into my robes for the day, style my hair, and clean my teeth again, before I draw open the curtain around my bed. It’s still dark out, and Blaise is lightly snoring from his bed. I throw my covers back into place and pull my curtains closed, before quietly crossing to the door and exiting the dorm. I tiptoe down the stairs, avoiding non-existent creaks in the timber. I pace through the Common Room and out into the corridor. 

The castle is dead silent, just as it should be at this kind of hour. I contemplate going through the secret passageway into Hogsmeade, but ultimately decide against it. Too cold. Instead, I slowly make my way down to the library. I pass empty classrooms, extinguished candles, sleeping portraits, and a couple of books thrown about haphazardly in the corridors. The students are quite clearly a mess, throwing school supplies around in anger, or fear… Even though we’ve only been back at Hogwarts for little over a week, we all feel it. The sheer number of curses left behind from the Battle leave us tired and irritable. People that are normally calm and quiet seem to want to shout and cry at the same time. I can feel, lying next to these curses, a trace of enchantments. As if the professors can tell the students are suffering and are trying to reverse the effects. It’s not working well, of course - no magic is strong enough to wash away thousands of deadly spells - but they are slowly doing something. I reckon by the end of the year the effects will be mostly gone. 

A slight movement off to my left draws my attention towards a shadowy alcove, and I pace towards it. I peer into the darkness and squint, trying to make out the shape of, well, anything. But there’s nothing there and I straighten back up. I’m just paranoid, I really need to get to the library and calm down. Forcing myself to grit my teeth, I pull away from the alcove and make my way down the corridor again. As I’m about to turn the corner into a new hall, I hear a sigh of relief from where I was standing just moments ago. I spin back around and walk slowly back to the alcove. There is definitely someone there, and I reach for my wand to cast Revelio. It’s not there… I curse myself, realising I never picked it up from my bedside table after startling awake. I hear a footstep land lightly next to me, escaping from the alcove. I whirl around and reach my hand out, grabbing at the thin air. But my hand hits something soft, and I pull whatever it is towards me. It’s a cloak? I glance down at the shiny fabric hanging limply from my hand, and then back up. Potter is standing there, looking aghast. I jump back in shock and fright, my breathing coming heavily. 

He glowers at me, daring me to do something. 

“What are you doing here, Malfoy.” The way he said it, it wasn’t a question. I could hear the menace dripping from his voice, turning me to stone. 

“Going for a walk, doing my first round as House Representative.” The lie slips easily off my tongue, and I think I’ve fooled him.

“House Representatives don’t do rounds, Malfoy. Otherwise I would’ve done one by now.” Oh shit. I forgot that the imbecile had the same position as me. 

“Yeah, well…” I sputter random syllables, hoping to make a coherent sentence. I can tell by the look on Potter’s face that it didn’t work. 

“Ok, let’s make a deal. We are both out at night, and we caught each other. So, how about we just don’t tell anyone?” 

“You have yourself a one-time deal then, Potter. And you better stick to it!”

“Or what?”

“I don’t know…” I sigh before stretching my hand out to him. He looks baffled for a short moment, before reaching out his hand to shake mine. 

“Well, good night, Malfoy.” My stomach lurches at that, and I nod my head before turning away and walking swiftly to the library. 

~~~~~~~~

“We are going to commence the day, and the lesson, by learning how to complete the Water-Making Charm.” Professor Flitwick’s voice booms around the round, demanding attention. He is clearly in a bad mood today, his eyes alight. 

“I know some of you did learn this charm in Seventh Year like you were supposed to, but the majority of you never did. Now, if you would like to flick open your textbooks to the page marked on the board, we will start reading about Augmenti.”

I roll my eyes and do as I’m told. I start taking my notes, listening to my quill scratch on the parchment and the light chatter of the students around me. We did this charm in Sixth Year, not Seventh, and I already know how to perform it nearly perfectly. Although, I guess I could do with a reminder on how to cast it. I shrug and bend my head down to write. I’m not taking it in, just watching as my quill glides in loops and arcs across my page, writing words I’ve not even thought about beforehand. I get into a rhythm fairly easy, and blank my mind out, taking all the notes subconsciously. I rarely pay much attention when I’m writing, I find my arm works best when my brain isn’t trying to interrupt it. I always feel a wave of calmness wash over me, and this wave urges me on.

“Please tell me, Mr. Malfoy, what would be the best time to use this charm?”

My quill leaps across the page, writing and writing, never taking a break from the constant flow of words. 

“Mr. Malfoy, I do believe I asked you a question?”

Black shapes are almost drawing themselves onto my parchment, and I smile softly. 

“Mr. Malfoy!” A piece of parchment hits the side of my head, and I whip around to throw it right back to the person who threw it. I never get the chance. 

“Now we have your attention, Mr. Malfoy, what is the best time to use this charm?”

“Oh. To extinguish a small flame, water a plant, or fill a basin.” My reply comes out smooth and easy, but in my mind I’m panicking. 

“Correct. Thank you, Mr. Potter, for rousing Mr. Malfoy from his daydreaming.”

The class muffle their laughs quickly, and I turn towards Potter. I set my glaring gaze on the boy, but he just smirks right back at me. I roll my eyes at him and turn back to the front, where I begin to pay attention. I can’t let that happen again.

~~~~~~~~

It is the first quidditch match of the term, and the castle is bubbling with excitement. It’s the Gryffindor vs Slytherin game, and all the students are in red or green. Well, everyone but the Slytherins and a couple others are in red. This doesn’t surprise me, these games are more of a popularity contest when it comes to the crowd, than the actual player’s skills. And I know that Gryffindor is the favourite by far. 

The Great Hall buzzes with conversation and the clatter of cutlery on plates. Breakfasts on Quidditch days are always strange, especially so now that there is an extra year group joining in. The teams are much the same as they were last year, only swapped around when a student hasn’t returned. Which makes Slytherin very different. The Slytherin team consists of Vaisey, Urquhart, and a Sixth Year named Samantha Adair as Chasers. A Seventh Year girl called Rochelle Jarvis and a Fifth Year named Solomon Hayes make up the Beaters. The Keeper is a Sixth Year who goes about as Audrey Santana, and I’m playing the role as Seeker. Slughorn fought hard for me to get my position back, and Headmistress McGonagall decided it would do me good to have something I loved so much back. I was flabbergasted, but accepted it graciously. Imagine if I wasn’t Seeker… 

I’m drawn from the depths of my mind by Headmistress McGonagall’s voice echoing through the Great Hall.

“Good morning students. It pleases me greatly to see you all eating and chatting, preparing for the first Quidditch Game of the year!” A cheer rises up as everyone thinks ahead to the game. McGonagall raises her hand for silence, and the students quieten down. 

“Yes yes, it’s very exciting. Well, as you all know today’s match is between Gryffindor and Slytherin. These two teams have been training very hard so far this term, and I’m sure through the holidays, even if you haven’t seen them.”

People were looking confusedly around at the teams. I sneer, thinking how marvellous it was not to be interrupted while training. Since the Quidditch Pitch is totally trashed and burnt, the school decided to clear some land behind the school and make a temporary pitch. That’s where we will be playing today. 

McGonagall continues, “There will be signs to show you where to go today, and once you’re there it will be just like normal. Now, the teams have changed up a bit since last year, however, I’m not going to tell you who’s been swapped out.” The Headmistress grins at us as the whole school groans. The teams were told to keep it a secret, so only the players know who else is playing. 

“I think I’ll let you have your guesses, and the rest of your breakfast. I will see you all later today. Enjoy!”

The students break out in chatter immediately. I can see them glancing around at everyone, trying to figure out who is playing. No one looks at me though. No one thinks I’ll be allowed to play after everything my family, and I, did in the war. It is sure to be a shock when I fly out onto the pitch.

~~~~~~~~

The stands are slowly filling, the light sun shining onto the crowd. Clouds float somewhere in between sky and space, creating small patches of shadow. The audience is relatively quiet, but that could just be because of where the teams are standing. Both Gryffindor and Slytherin are gathered inside a tent, magically extended of course, sitting in circles talking and stretching. The rest of my team in fairly anxious to do well in this game, but I’m not worried at all. I know that our team is better than Potter’s, and I’m not afraid to tell the others this. We have trained so hard this term, and that the Gryffindor team has had to miss a lot of practises. Shifting schedules and bad weather have clashed with most of their sessions. When I told my team this, they just asked how I knew and then decided it would be best to just ignore what I’d said. I told them that Potter had brought it up during Defence Against the Dark Arts when we were working on our assignment. That’s not how I know though. The truth is I followed Potter to practise, hiding in the trees. I was curious to see what his team was like, and thought ‘why not?’ So I watched the whole practise. I observed the three Chasers (played by Sixth Year Demelza Robins, Ginny Weasley, and Dean Thomas) diving and swooping along the pitch. Weasley was playing Keeper, and doing a pretty bad job of it, just like always. The role of Beater was filled in with Ritchie Coote and a Fifth Year named Edna Andsell. Of course, there was no surprise who the Seeker was. Potter rose above the team, shouting instructions and sweeping his gaze over the pitch. His fit, lean body flying over everyone else’s, eyes scanning their movements and for the coveted Snitch.

The crowds cheering brings me back to the present, away from my memory. I shake my head to clear it, and realise we are lined up ready to exit the tent and present ourselves to the crowd. I curse myself for this near miss, and plaster a look of triumph on my face before we step into the sunshine. The audience cheers when the Gryffindors walk out, already chanting the names of people they recognise. When it’s our turn to step out, and the crowd goes silent. A couple people cheer, mainly other Slytherins. I look around at my team and shape my mouth into a flat line. The Captain (Vaisey) nods twice at us and we get into our positions on the ground. Potter quickly follows the order and Gryffindor does the same. Our teams are facing each other, the Chasers ready to fight for the ball. Madam Hooch blows her whistle and we mount our brooms and take off, hovering just above the ground. 

“Ensure this match is quick and clean. Any serious injuries and the Captains, or someone else, are allowed to call a TimeOut. Otherwise, you play on.” Madam Hooch glances at all of us, daring us to say otherwise. She blows her whistle again, the balls are released, and the game commences. 

It’s chaos, just like the beginning of every other match I’ve ever played. I immediately rise up and out of the way of the others, taking myself to the edge of the pitch. Players are flying rapidly around the pitch, chasing after Quaffles, Bludgers, and other players. Robins and the Weaslette are following after Adair, who has the Quaffle and is making her way down to score for Slytherin. Urquhart meets her there and she throws the ball to him. He flies around the Gryffindor Chasers before landing the first perfect score. 

“And that’s ten points to Slytherin!” The commentator screams into his microphone. 

The audience groans openly at that, and cheer on Gryffindor even harder. 

I see a swoop of motion on the other side of the pitch, and snap my head to it. I’m disappointed to see that it is not the Snitch, but in fact just Jarvis. And then I realise what she is doing, and a grin splits my face open. Her eyes trace the line of her Beaters’ bat, and follow the Bludger she just launched towards Robins. 

“Demelza! Watch it!” I twist towards the voice who warned her, and scowl at Weasley. He must be getting agitated, not being able to block our scores, so now he’s warning his players. Robins ducks out of the way, the Bludger missing her by mere centimetres. 

The commentator draws a quick breath before saying, “Nice miss, Demelza!”

Coote clearly disagrees, as he sends a Bludger right towards Vaisey. Urquhart shouts out, but he doesn’t hear. It hits its mark in the middle of his back, and Vaisey is crashing to the sand below. Everyone freezes for a split second, shocked at the fall of the Slytherin Quidditch Captain. That’s all Adair needs in order to throw the Quaffle through a hoop and score. Unfortunately, Weasley dived for it and blocked its entrance into the hoop. The Slytherin supporters groan, and Santana calls a TimeOut for Vaisey. We fly down to the ground and rush out to meet Vaisey. He is seemingly unconscious, facedown in the sand. I race towards him and flip him onto his side. I ask him some basic questions, but he doesn’t answer. I look around at the line of surrounding players, before asking Vaisey if he can squeeze my hand. I feel nothing. I look at my teammates’ worried expressions, when I feel the slightest tremor in my hand. He squeezed it. Very gently, but it was definitely there.

“He is conscious!” I shout towards the crowd. Madam Pomfrey runs in at that moment and places him on a stretcher before taking him to the medics’ tent. 

Once he has been checked over, we are called back to the game. Gryffindor is getting noticeably uncomfortable, and are itching to get a move on. The Quaffle is once again released, and the game continues. Dean Thomas races around the pitch, getting in everyone’s way and making us lose focus. By the time we realise he somehow stole the Quaffle off of us, he has already scored past Santana.

“Ten points to Gryffindor!!” Roars over the loudspeaker, and the crowd goes wild. I sigh to myself, floating silently by the outskirts. The game continues through a wall of silence I decide is much needed. How can I concentrate with all that noise? I glance across the pitch and see Potter staring at a spot near my head. I narrow my eyes and search around myself. There isn’t anything though, and I look back at him. My gut twists and turns as he shrugs, before turning away and flying towards one of his Chasers. 

In the curtain of silence I draw around myself, I can finally be alone with my eyes. They scour the air around the pitch, the audience, the sky above me, yet I see nothing. I’m growing frustrated, with Gryffindor scoring more goals. The scores are still close, but not in my favour. 90 for Gryffindor, and 60 for Slytherin. I look over at Hayes just in time to see his eyes light up. He swings his bat at a Bludger and sends it lurching towards Weaslette. Everyone turns to watch the eminent hit, but he looks at me. I see his eyes gaze over at a spot above me. I follow his vision, and a streak of golden wings flutter into view. I lean forward and lunge towards the spot I saw. My hand reaches for the golden ball, but just misses. Out of the corner of my eye I see Potter right behind me. I must get to it first. I set my teeth and go for it again. Potter is now next to me, butting against me and trying to knock me out of the way. My hand closes around a smooth, cold, metal sphere and pull it in to me. I look at the Snitch in all its glory, and raise my fist to the sky.

“And he’s done it! Malfoy has caught the Snitch, winning the game for Slytherin at 210 to 90!” The audience is shocked into silence, before an uproar of cheering comes forth from the Slytherin supporters. 

Madam Hooch blows her whistle, signalling the end of the match. Everyone flies down to the ground and shakes hands. Most of Gryffindor is gracious in their loss, of course, but some aren’t. It’s evident in their eyes, even if they hide it on their faces. Potter’s hand clasps around my own, and he shakes it firmly. There is sweat dripping down his face and through his hair. He smells like cypress wood, shea butter, and amber. I can see my reflection in his crystal green eyes and notice my mess of hair. He looks at me weirdly, and I realise I’m staring and still gripping his hand. He smiles softly before saying, “Nice one, Malfoy. I had no chance of getting to it.” I smile and nod away his congratulations. 

~~~~~~~~

“Mr. Malfoy.” Slughorn’s brisk voice bounces off the corridor walls, and people turn to look at what’s happening.

“Yes, sir?” I spin around and lift my gaze to Slughorn. He doesn’t look angry, which is unusual these days, but good for me.

“I would like to have a word with you in my office,” the on-lookers’ mouths drop open at that. I carefully observe his face, taking in the lack of creasing around his eyebrows and on his forehead. He clearly isn’t annoyed, so I nod my head at him and follow him through the hallways into his office. The students watching scatter as we pass, shocked and surprised that I would follow into the wolf’s den. Slughorn may not be as irritable as Snape ever was, but after the war ended he became scared for his life (helping Riddle know what a horcrux is could’ve easily landed him jail, the stupid prat). The fear twisted into resentment, and now we have to be cautious around him. I let my mind wander and start sifting through the parts he had in the war, and find more that he would be commended for than otherwise, but best be safe, right?

“So, Malfoy,” the Potions Professor starts, “I’ve asked you here to talk about your class work, and a favour I would like you to help me with.” My face sinks in surprise and he must’ve seen because he quickly stammers out, “All good things, of course.” I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding in, and take a seat opposite him on the obnoxiously pale orange ottoman. 

“Excuse me, Professor, but I don’t understand why I am here if nothing is wrong?” My question is simple enough, but something tells me he won’t answer it straight up.

“We will get to that in just a moment, Malfoy. Now, would you like a biscuit?” I shake my head, the ‘biscuits’ look absolutely revolting. Slughorn shrugs and takes a bite of his own. How did I know he wouldn’t get straight to the point. 

“So. Regarding your work in class,” my head shoots up, “it is very good, as per usual. In fact, I think that it’s so good that I would like you to tutor some of the younger students who are struggling in this area.” Slughorn pauses, catches his breath, and lunges into a speech. “I have put together a list of all the students in the school falling a little short - yes it includes people in your Year- and what specific areas they are lacking. I think it would be a good idea to start with some students from the younger Years and pick about three of them to help. Since you are a House Representative, I reckon you’re one of the best people to ask - and your natural skill in the subject certainly. I would pay you, of course. Not very much I must confess, but it would be something, and I think that having ‘tutored younger students’ would look very nice on a résumé. Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked here aren’t I? Yes, I am. So, I’ve underlined the best picks from each Year group that I think you should start with. Obviously I would give you permission to use my classroom and the storage cupboard. I would have to make a timetable that works for both of us, but that shouldn’t be too hard.” The Professor finally finishes rambling, and holds out the sheets of paper condemning me to work for him. On the front it has the lists of students I would tutor, and the back has the contract that binds me under his command. 

“All you have to do is sign on the dotted line to make it official.” I pick up one of the many quills and dip it into the inkwell, careful to remove any excess ink. I then write my signature on the line, and hand it over to Professor Slughorn again. He signs just below where I did, and nods his head.

“So, when would I start?” 

His reply is quick. “Tomorrow.” My eyes widen ever so slightly, and I stand on shaking legs. I reach my hand out to him, and he takes it into his bigger one, shaking gleefully. 

“Oh, and one more thing,” he says as I am halfway out the door. “I need you to go retrieve Mr. Longbottom from your Common Room. Tell him it’s about his ‘power plant potion’ and he’ll understand.” I let the ghost of a smile show on my lips to tell Slughorn I heard, and step out into the corridor. 

Heads turn to gaze at me, but I just walk briskly past them, through numerous hallways, and towards the Eighth Year Common Room. Stopping in front of the suit of armour disguising the entrance, I announce “Andros the Invincible” and the visor on it’s helmet slides up. I grasp the lever within and pull it down, watching as a door shape pushes backwards and then swings inward. I glimpse the blue and purple room inside, and step into the entrance way. Closing the door behind me, I traipse into the room. 

The whole Year group watches as I enter, and then starts talking all at once. 

“What did Slughorn want?”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Do you have detention?”

“I wouldn’t be upset if you were…”

I’m bombarded with questions and statements, everyone clearly wishing me ill fortune. I just smirk at the lot of them, and ask if anyone knows where Longbottom got to. Dead silence, and then a Gryffindor at the back of the room and tells me that I’ll probably find him in his dorm. I briefly notice that it was Weaslette that told me, and raise my hand up to thank her as I trail up the stairs to the dormitories. Since I don’t know the password to get in, I just open the standard door and walk into the Slytherin dorms. The first one is mine and Blaise’s, and I cross it and push a new door open. It’s another Slytherin one, clearly holding Theodore Nott and Goyle. Not quite the Gryffindor rooms… I push the next door ajar and look into a blue room filled with books and game boards. Clearly it’s the Ravenclaw rooms, and I push open the next door. When I finally get to a room decorated with red, quidditch posters, and half-finished work, I know that it’s Gryffindor. And of course it was the one at the very end. 

I go to push it open completely, and halt. Potter, Weasley, and Granger are standing there, in the middle of a quietened conversation. My stomach twists, and I creep away from the door into the shadows, leaving it cracked open to listen.

“Harry we have some, questions, we’d like to ask you.” Granger’s voice cuts through. She sounds like it pains her to say that, but knows she has to press on. “I fear they are rather important, I might add. Ron here, thinks there might be something you aren’t telling us.”

Potter cocks his head to the side, his hair falling into his eyes. 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand?”

Weasley sighs. “Look. I know this is a difficult time in your life. And you may, um, be questioning some things. But I want you to know that I understand.”

Potter’s mouth opens halfway, stunned. “You mean that? I thought you would be angry! I never would’ve thought you’d accept-”

“Of course I’d accept that! You’re very stressed since the war ended, having to catch up with school. I’m fine with you breaking it off with Ginny to catch up!” Weasley’s words are tumbling over each other. Granger looks confused for a second, before pushing it away and smiling at Potter.

“Of course we are, Harry. We will always accept you and your decisions.” Potter splutters for a while before thanking them. The way he looks at Granger, feels like there is something not being said. Like Granger is biting her tongue to keep from saying it, and Potter is worried she will. Weasley, of course, feels nothing and continues rambling on.

I knock sharply and interrupt their little gathering. Pushing the door open, I step into the overly-red room. They stare at me before questioning, “How long were you standing there?” 

“Hmm? Oh. I just got here…” My answer gives nothing away, mixing confusion with certainty. They accept my answer and I tell them that I need to find Longbottom. They inform me that he was just here, and that he went down to the greenhouses. I thank them off-handedly and take my leave. I pull the door shut behind me, but I don’t go through the next room. Instead, I line myself up with the crack of the door and press my ear against it.

“That wasn’t what I wanted to ask you about,” Granger says slowly. “I didn’t think Ron and I were on the same page…”

“Well, now that he is gone for a second you can ask me.” I can hear Potter’s shrug through the door.

“Ok. Well, I’ve been doing some thinking-”

“Never a good idea ‘Mione,” Potter interrupts. She scoffs before continuing.

“I was thinking about your past relationships Harry. They have all been relatively short, haven’t they?

“Well, yes, I guess.”

“And you haven’t really been much upset about any of them ending, yes?”

“Um. Yes? Look, I don’t know what you’re getting at Hermione…”

“Just. Know that if there is anything you wish to tell me, you can.”

“Of course, Hermione.”

“Well, is there anything?”

“No.” Potter’s answer is quick and short. Perhaps a little too quick. Granger narrows her eyes before sighing and hugging him tightly. My stomach is twisting as I walk away.


	3. Restart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco keeps going through the motions of school and his new responsibilities, as well as developing a better understanding of Harry (and himself).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading everything so far, I hope you are enjoying it! I’m planning on releasing a chapter this time each week, as university schedules aren’t the easiest to work around. Xx

The Third Year student in front of me is infuriating. He just doesn’t understand anything. He is failing everything in Potions, and nothing is piercing his thick head.  
“Ok. So you just need to cut the bat spleens like this,” I demonstrate with my own, “and then place them gently in the cauldron. I nod to him, and he picks up his own knife before slicing.  
“Like this?” His voice is quiet and questioning. I shake my head at him and make to move his hands with my own. He pulls away and shakes his head. I groan silently and pray that he doesn’t cut himself. The boy picks up the shredded bat spleens and drops them carelessly into the cauldron, splattering the purple liquid everywhere.

“Look,” I need to lecture this boy. “I don’t care if you think it’s ‘cool’ to be bad at this, but please lose the act with me. And don’t try to defend yourself, I know an act when I see one.” He stares at me with wonder in his eyes, and reaches for the knife again. He cuts through the bat spleens perfectly and places it carefully into the cauldron.  
“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?”  
“I guess not… But, my reputation is being bad at Potions, and I don’t want to ruin that.” That’s not a good reputation. I push the thought to the back of my mind, knowing how important it feels to be someone.  
“I understand that completely. But with me, you don’t have to worry about that.” My voice is cool and calm, comforting the boy. “Why don’t we do this. Ok. Here, I will teach you, and you need to actually try. And then in class you can slack off. Then, when it comes to exams you will still do well.”  
He nods eagerly at me, before saying, “I think that would work…” 

Even if he fails the class participation, it will still be obvious that he is good at this subject, and will soften the blow a hell of a lot. Happy with the progress I’ve made in my first day of tutoring, I relax into the rest of the lesson. I decide that I will teach him the next potion in advanced, and set up the room properly. 

~~~~~~~~

“Oh come on Malfoy.” Potter rolls his eyes at me as I walk in late.  
“Sorry, I got sidetracked with my student,” I excuse myself.  
“Student?” Oh shit.  
“Um, yeah. Didn’t you know? I am tutoring some of the younger kids in Potions.” I wasn’t supposed to tell him, but too late for that now.  
“Cool. Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“Oh, um. I technically wasn’t meant to tell anyone…”  
“How come?” His forehead creases and his eyes go muddy.  
“I will eventually have to tutor people in our Year…” His face shows shock for a second before nodding thoughtfully.  
“Makes sense. Who knows, maybe you’ll have to tutor me!” Potter laughs at that and I try to. I know for a fact I will have to, as his name was on Slughorn’s list. 

Potter and I knuckle down to start working on our DADA assignment. We have both started by ourselves, but quickly discovered it would be best to meet up. We decided on tonight, and here we are. I scribble down quick notes as Potter reads from the textbook, my quill writing neat letters. I told him we both needed to restart together, and disregard our old information. And now here we are, sitting opposite each other in the library. He finishes speaking, and clears his throat. I look up and catch him looking at me. I quirk an eyebrow even as my stomach lurches. He shrugs and states that we have gone through the entire chapter dedicated to the Curse of the Bogies.  
“But we know practically nothing!” I exclaim, my forehead creasing.  
“I know,” he mutters his reply before standing. “I’m going to go ask if there are any other books that cover it.” I watch as his form retreats and walks over to the counter. I decide to somewhat organise my notes and rewrite them in a logical order. That just makes it more obvious how little we have, and I groan aloud.

I shuffle in my seat and hear someone say my name a couple seats over. I train my ears to that spot, and listen intensely.  
“Malfoy and Potter seem quite close these days, don’t they?” A girl asks of her friend, and I roll my eyes. More like forced civility.  
“I guess so. But it’s really more of that they don’t want to bite each other’s heads off,” her friend snickers. I roll my eyes and tune out their useless gossip. A shadow darts into my peripheral vision and I twist to see what it is. Before I can, though, I see a mountain of books falling onto the table in front of me. Potter found lots of books. He slides into the seat next to me and parts the pile in half. I glance at him and quirk an eyebrow.  
“Did you ask for a whole shelf?” I ask him sarcastically, half expecting the answer to be yes.  
Potter shrugs, “This is every book in the library that mentions the Curse of the Bogies. We have to be able to find something.” His leg feels warm pressed up against mine, and I bite back the comment of ‘you weren’t sitting here before’. I open the top book of my pile, and flip to the index page. The spell is mentioned in the fifth chapter, and I groan when I see just how long that chapter is. Potter has a similar reaction next to me, and lifts his eyes to mine. I smirk at him and bend my head, starting to read. 

About an hour later Potter and I are through four books between us, and there have been about five sentences in total.  
“There has to be a more efficient method to do this,” I grumble out of the corner of my mouth.  
Potter next to me just laughs. “If there was, surely one of us would’ve thought of one by now.”  
Scoffing, I add, “Even if there was, we both know you wouldn’t be the one coming up with it!” He looks down at his book again and is slightly flustered at my outburst. I wonder why? “That is to say. I’m much better at those type of things than you are.” His shoulders sink back down to normal and his back straightens a bit.  
“Ok then. Is that a challenge, Malfoy?”  
“I don’t think it would be much of one for me, but for you on the other hand…”  
It’s Potter’s turn to scoff at me, his eyes burning into mine. His face is lit up, and his lips have become slightly pink. His leg presses more firmly into mine, and his warmth spreads up my thigh. It’s intoxicating, and I have to look away.  
“Well, um. I bet I’ll get through the next three books faster than you.” I stutter out, trying to break the tension between us. The only sign that he heard is the quirked eyebrow, and his eyes rapidly moving on the page. I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and sink into the work ahead of me. 

~~~~~~~

The moon is in the centre of the sky as Potter and I make the walk to our Common Room. The halls are deserted and silent, everyone else long gone to bed. Each of us are carrying multiple books with the Curse of the Bogies mentioned somewhere within, making our journey there a lot slower than it needed to be. We pass paintings that grumble at us to dim our wands, and a couple of house elves glare at us, but we arrive at the suit of armour in one piece. Potter lifts his head to speak, but comes up short.  
“You ok?” My question rings around us, bouncing off corridor walls.  
“Um, Malfoy.” He sounds terrified, and as it dawns on me my mouth goes dry.  
“Oh no,” I grind out. “The password’s changed.”

Potter kneels down and places his books on the ground outside the door, before pulling his wand out of his pocket. He fires off different unlocking charms, none of them having any effect. He groans and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. I decide to try my own spells and set off a variety of sparks in the door’s direction. It doesn’t so much as appear in the wall.  
“Maybe we should try something on the suit of armour?” My idea is good, but I doubt it will work. Potter rains spells down on the armour, and as expected nothing happens.  
He sighs loudly before saying, “Looks like we’re stuck out here Malfoy.” 

I sink to the ground and push my back against the cold of the stone wall. My face buries itself in my hands and I curse at myself for letting this happen. I feel Potter sit down next to me, and his heat warms my skin. My gut twists as he reaches out to move our piles of books, and accidentally knocks my arm. He is halfway through apologizing when he falters on his words.  
“Merlin! You’re freezing! Why didn’t you say anything?” I shrug his worry off and tell him that I don’t even feel cold. He doesn’t believe me however, and soon has cast multiple warming charms around both of us. I exhale slowly, and he takes that as thanks. Potter reaches forward and picks up one of his books, flipping open to a page that he marked. He catches my gaze and shrugs.  
“Might as well keep reading. There is nothing we can do about this.” I stare at him in disbelief, before picking up my own book. I hate to admit this, but he is right. There is nothing we can do about being locked out of the Common Room.

We sit in comfortable silence for a while, our legs pressed next to each other. We swap occasional words to each other, noting down any new information we come across. It’s been a couple of hours when Potter suddenly jumps up in revelation.  
“Oh Merlin. How did I not think of this?!” He uses his wand to cast a Patronus Charm, before speaking to it carefully. He tells it to go and retrieve Granger for him, and to tell her to open the Common Room door to let him in. I notice that he doesn’t mention me, but I don’t care.  
“Oh my lord! How did neither of us think of that?!” He shrugs without looking at me, and I feel my face heating. Wrong thing to say. 

Granger’s head of wild, curly brown hair pokes out through the Common Room door and squints into the darkness. Her face lights up when she sees Potter, and hurries to embrace him.  
“What on earth have you been doing?!” She scolds him half-heartedly.  
“I was working with Malfoy in the library. Lost track of time…” He rubs the back of his neck guiltily. He steps aside and I come into view. Granger falters and stares for a second. She quickly recovers herself, and greets me somewhat civilly. She then steps into the Common Room, leaving the door open behind her. Potter steps in behind her, leaving me to shut the door after us. Once inside, Granger bids him goodnight and walks up the staircase to the girls’ dormitories. He then turns to me and takes the books I pass to him, his casual demeanour gone.  
“Um. We got a lot done today, I think,” he stammers out.  
I fix him with a suspicious look before replying, “Yeah, we did.” It sounds awkward and confused.  
“Well, um, goodnight Malfoy,” his face turns the slightest bit pink as he says that.  
“Yeah. Goodnight, Potter.” My stomach turns over as he turns away and steps up the staircase. I follow him up, and he turns to look at me before muttering his password, and walking through the entrance into his room. When the door is shut, I push it inward and walk into my own room. 

“Well well well. What do we have here?” I roll my eyes at Blaise and ignore him as I cross the room towards my bed.  
“Coming home late now, huh? Who is this boy, Malfoy?” His voice is mischievous at best, and I scoff as I draw the curtains around my bed. Blaise loves assuming everyone is gay and in some sort of scandal all the time. It’s infuriating.  
“Come on! You don’t have to be a prude!” I glance in my mirror and charm my hair and teeth clean, before changing into my night clothes.  
I reply, “I’m not a prude. I’m also neither gay, nor seeing someone.” With that final comment I place my books in my trunk and fall into bed. 

I’m not gay. _I am not gay. _I think back to my past girlfriends, and how much I liked them. Even if they were short relationships, even if I felt something missing, even if we weren’t totally happy. I was perfectly content dating a girl. So why would Blaise think I’m gay? Then I think back to all the boys I wanted to be friends with. That certain longing and then misery when it didn’t work out like that. Potter would be a prime example from First Year. Potter… I replay all the times this year that I’ve found him across the room. All the times I’ve wished he was closer to me, pressing against me for warmth. All the times my stomach has flipped inside out at something he said, or even just his presence. Shocked with how much evidence is stacked against myself, I rub my eyes with my fists. I refuse to go down that path. I am not gay. Never have been, never will be. And Merlin knows that I won’t go down the other path either. I need to keep Potter out of my mind.__

~~~~~~~~

It’s my free period, the sun is shining and warm for September, yet I’m stuck in the Potions Classroom tutoring this hopeless child. The Fourth Year girl is just as stupid as the Third Year I have been tutoring, but she isn’t pretending to be bad. She just is.  
“Wait. What did you want me to do?” She asks, less than ten seconds after I told her. I sigh inwardly, and tell her, once again, that she needs to dice the Ginger Roots into fine pieces.  
“Oh. Of course,” she stutters, before randomly chopping the root. The Wit-Sharpening Potion is the first one of the year for Fourth Years, and supposedly the easiest. I learned it in two lessons perfectly, although that’s no shock. Potter, I think, learned it in three. There, that’s an easy standard to meet. This poor girl has had five periods, and can’t even make it past the first step. This is going to be a long session. 

The girl, I distantly think her name is Abigail, shows me the board of mutated roots. I expel a breath, wishing to be pulled under, and slowly shake my head. I demonstrate once again how to cut the ginger, and she nods. This time, I decide I’ll guide her hand with my own, and see if she gets it. Her hand is small and cold beneath mine, and she startles when I grasp it.  
“I’m going to guide you.” She accepts my reasoning, and I slowly start dicing the root. My hand gently moves up and down, making circles in the air before cutting. Once I’m halfway through one root, I remove my hand. She looks up at me and sees me nod quickly. She resumes her cutting and succeeds in making little slices of ginger root.  
“There. That is perfect. Now repeat that for the rest of the roots.” The girl blushes and starts on the next root. This one leaves a bit to be desired, but is significantly better than how she started. 

I instruct her to mix it gently into the potion until it turns lime green. I start guiding her hand once again, and then let her finish it off. She manages this well, and we move onto combing the Armadillo Bile. Round and round her hand goes, firmly blending it throughout the potion. It turns a brilliant shade of blue, and I tell her stop.  
“Is it the wrong colour, sir?” Abigail asks, and I shake my head, still finding it weird to be called ‘sir’.  
“No, it’s perfect so far.” She blushes once again. “We now need to grind our Scarab Beetles in a mortar and pestle.” She rushes over to the shelves and finds one. She paces back to me and I show her how to properly grind them into a paste. I guide her again, and then she keeps going until it’s just the right consistency. Telling her to add it to the potion, she stirs it until it becomes a beautiful red colour. She looks up at me and I nod, then tell her to remix the Armadillo Bile, Ginger Roots, and Armadillo Bile (again) until the potion is purple. She starts mixing in the Armadillo Bile again, and I allow myself to daydream. I think back to a couple nights ago, when Potter and I spent the night studying and sending weird looks back and forth. My stomach twists again and I groan silently. It’s becoming more insistent and more painful the longer I’m at school. _Every time _time I try to ignore it, but it’s becoming increasingly distracting.__

“Uh, sir. Is it supposed to be dark green? I thought it had to be yellow?” Abigail lifts me from the depths of my mind, and I splutter. _Oh no… _She clearly notices and starts panicking like only fourteen year olds can. I put my hand on her shoulder and squeeze. I’m not surprised she messed up, but I am annoyed that it happened after so much progress. I rush to Vanish the potion, not wanting anything to explode, and set her to soaking the cauldron.  
“Well, you improved a lot today. Next time, I’m sure, you’ll conquer the Wit-Sharpening Potion.” I try to believe that too, but I’m not so sure. I let myself sigh, and start putting the equipment away. __

~~~~~~~~

“I’ve called you here today to tell about your first responsibility as House Representatives.” McGonagall’s sentence answers none of our questions. That was quite obvious when I walked in and saw Potter, Bones, and Goldstein inside her office too. I shrug at Potter, and he rolls his eyes back at me.  
“Now, as you all know, Halloween is a big deal at Hogwarts each year. We normally have a grand feast, and play games with our friends.” The four of us nod. “Well, this year I want to do it a bit differently.” Our eyes go wide and Bones lights up.  
“I want to throw a party, not only in the Great Hall, but also outside near the lake.” Now Bones is practically beaming, she loves parties. Goldstein looks gobsmacked, and I remember him saying something to Boot about hating having to organise parties. Potter just stares at me, watching as I figure out everyone else’s reactions. His eyes are missing the usual heat when it’s just him and I, and are instead soft and happy. His face and body is relaxed, and he seems quite glad to be setting up a party. I think that there will be lots of work involved, but that there will be some silver linings.

McGonagall draws our attention back to her with a quick clap, before lunging into a short speech. “The party will be on the 31st of October, and will be from 8:30 pm to 11:30 pm. This means an extended curfew for everyone, and the castle will have to be set up to accommodate for that temporary change. I will split you up into pairs, and assign you one of two roles. They have already been chosen, and will not be changed under any circumstance. Is that understood?” The four House Representatives nod in silence, and the Headmistress continues.  
“Both pairs will have to meet up with each other often, to communicate ideas and what they’ve done already. I’ve decided that you will be taken out of class every third day, in the third period, and will have a meeting in the Great Hall. You will discuss what food you want, what music, decorations, games or challenges, etc. Then, one of you will come up here to my office, and let me know what you’ve decided. Now that that’s out of the way, who wants to know what they are doing?” All four of us nod, and we are passed a folded sheet of parchment.

“These sheets of paper are different for each one of you. It has your name, your partner’s name, your tasks, and encouragement if needed. They are charmed, so they will change as needed throughout the upcoming weeks. You should take them with you everywhere, and do exactly as they say. Now, would you please unfold your parchment.” I lift mine to eye level and let it float there, before opening it at the crease. It reads;  
“Owner: Draco Malfoy  
Partner: Harry Potter  
Task 1: Designing”  
I’m not surprised that Potter and I are together, since all the Professors seem hooked on making us work well together. I am surprised, however, that we are doing the designing. I would’ve thought I’d work much better setting up games, food, music, and anything else like that. Not decorating. I look to Potter, and see that he’s moved next to me. His eyes are alight again, and I feel them blazing into my soul. I swallow hard and force myself to speak.  
“So Potter,” I grind out, “I guess we are working together again.”  
“Hmm. It would seem so.” Potter looks ecstatic, clearly happy to be doing the decorating. Of course he’d like doing something like that. He looks over his shoulder at Bones and Goldstein, and my eyes follow. They are staring at each other like they’ve just been paired with Mordred himself. I can see the rage shimmering in the air, and am silently happy that I wasn’t paired with either of them. 

“Ahem. Susan, Anthony. Is there a problem?” McGonagall can quite clearly see the problem, and looks quite amused. The two of them stutter before shaking their heads. Bones extends a hand toward Goldstein, and he begrudgingly shakes it.  
“Good. I’m glad to see that Harry and Draco aren’t biting the other’s head off this time.” She smiles at us, and I feel something within me shift. I don’t like it.  
“Now. As you have probably already noticed, we are running short on time to prepare. I would like all four of you to go down to the Great Hall together and start organising what you’re going to do.” Potter knows a dismissal when he hears one, and sets of towards the door. I follow close behind, and feel the other two walking after me. 

Potter is radiating heat, not warmth, and seems slightly annoyed at something.  
“What’s wrong?” My question snaps him out of his trance.  
“Oh, um, nothing. Sorry, I was just thinking.” He shakes his head and I see his eyes clear of the heat and his Adam’s apple bob. I am disappointed by the lack of feeling behind them, and dig my nails into my palm. _I already told you, Draco. Don’t go down that road. _Startled by what I just thought, I shake my head slowly, clearing my thoughts. I push them down into my gut and briskly make my way down to the Great Hall.__

~~~~~~~~

Goldstein and Bones have left the hall, and are making their way to the lake. We collectively decided that it would be best to scope out the areas, and then figure out what we are going to do. The Hufflepuff Representative wanted to get into the sun, forcing Goldstein to go with her. That leaves Potter and I sitting, alone, together in the Great Hall, trying to brainstorm ideas for the decorations.  
“Orange! I’m telling you Malfoy, we have to include orange!” Potter somehow knows nothing of Wizarding Halloween, regardless of the years spent in the magical world.  
“Absolutely not, Potter. Orange is a revolting colour that looks good on no one and nothing.”  
He rolls his eyes at my response before saying, “Well it looks good on me!” My face must look stricken, because he looks back at me offended.  
“I disagree.”  
“Ok then. But why not orange, apart from that?”  
I exhale deeply. “Orange, apart from being hideous, is never used for Halloween. Orange is more of a September colour than an October one.” I can sense that he finds this funny, and I scoff at him. “It also represents strength and endurance, not really a scary colour, is it?”  
“Shouldn’t that make it perfect? Strength and endurance against the evil spirits?” I shake my head at him.  
“Without giving you a full history lesson, that’s not what Halloween is to us. Halloween, is about possessing magic and using it in creative and new ways. The only reason we make it scary is because there was a battle that took place on Halloween centuries ago. The ‘bad side’ used Necromancy to raise people from the grave, and created an undead army.” Potter looks gobsmacked, utterly shocked.  
I barely hear him murmur, “I still don’t see why we can’t use orange…” I bury my face in my hands and groan aloud.  
“You know what, never mind. But we still can’t use orange.” He just nods before suggesting a whole array of new colours.

Potter and I have now stood up from the table we were sitting at, and have been pacing around the room for a couple of minutes. I’m following Potter as he paces around the room, pointing at where things should go, and writing everything he says down. I occasionally interrupt him, because “no Potter, the music should not be played from a jukebox hovering above everyone’s heads” and “Potter, putting a floating stream of pumpkins right in front of the entrance is not a good idea”. Every interruption I make, he scowls at me like I’m questioning Merlin himself.  
“You don’t even like decorating! Actually, I know for a fact that you hate it!” He states, acting like that changes the need for common sense. I roll my eyes like I usually do and gesture for him to start walking again. He releases a breath, calming himself down, and takes a couple of steps towards me. He is less than an arm’s reach from me, and I feel my face starting to heat. He then leans in close to me, his hand reaching up to my jaw. Running a finger along the angular line, he smirks. I feel my stomach clench and twist violently, just as he pulls himself away.  
“You had a splotch of ink there,” he laughs, before holding up his hand to show me an ink stain on his middle finger. I utter my thanks and turn around, making him walk around me so he can start going around the room again.

“Ooh. Maybe a pumpkin juice fountain here? What do you think, Malfoy?” Potter points at the two corners at the front of the hall.  
“What about the two jukeboxes you put there already?”  
My question makes him pull a face before he says, “Well, scratch that then. I want the fountains.” Rolling my eyes, I cross out the jukeboxes on the long sheet of parchment and replace it with the fountains.  
“What is your love of pumpkin juice for anyway? It’s not even that good,” I venture.  
“Just because you don’t like it, Malfoy! Everyone else does.”  
“Pansy doesn’t particularly like it either, you know. It’s not just me.”  
“Sure,” he chided, “How is Pansy, by the way? You never mention her.” I pause to consider the question. I haven’t really spoken to her at all since the train. I don’t know why, I guess we are both just too busy. But I can’t tell him that.  
“She’s good, I think. She is very busy, and spends most of her time with some Ravenclaw girls.” Not an outright lie, she has been with Ravenclaw girls. I think. Potter considers this for a second nods.  
“Must be weird, hey? Not being around her as much. I can’t imagine what I would feel if I stopped hanging out with Ron and Hermione.”  
“Oh, why do you have to bring your feelings into everything?!” I snap, suddenly annoyed. His eyebrows both rise, and he glances quickly to the side Berle staring back at me. He shudders and starts off around the room once more. This time he doesn’t ask for my opinion, instead just telling me exactly what he wants. 

It’s been an insufferable fifteen minutes of silence, and I feel like I’m drowning in the quiet.  
“Potter,” I stammer tentatively. “I’m sorry to have offended you. I didn’t think before I spoke.” I’d rather apologise to him than keep up this miserable stillness. He quirks an eyebrow at me, but relaxes all the same.  
“Why did you say that?”  
“I just told you, I wasn’t thinking.”  
He sighs, “Just, please be more cautious Malfoy.”  
“Yes. Of course, Potter.” I don’t know why he was so offended by that, but I’ve learnt that emotions are a tricky subject for him, so I’ll leave it at that. When I glance back to him, I see him holding out his hand.  
“Let’s restart. Again.” He assents. I laugh as I take his hand, and smile as I shake it.  
“Hello. I’m Draco Malfoy, pleased to meet you. And you are…?”  
“Potter. Harry Potter. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Draco.”


	4. Understanding Implications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is getting way too deep into this Potter obsession...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realised there was a typo in the title... Also! I made myself a tumblr! It’s just “devilrising” so come follow me! (I literally can’t link anything, so, you’ll just have to search for it 🤷♀️)

My heart stops, a shiver rips it’s way down my spine, and my stomach lurches. He called me Draco… I force myself to sit down on my bed, my head spinning. What does that mean? Am I reading too far into it? I don’t let myself think the final question of ‘Does he feel the same?’ That question shouldn’t exist. Blaise is snoring gently in the bed across from mine, even though it’s early in the night. At least he isn’t probing into my life. I decide to stand up and cross into the Common Room. I silently pull the door towards me, and step onto the stairway leading down. I carefully shut the door behind me and ramble down the stairs. People are still sitting in front of the fires, reading and talking lightly. A couple of heads turn to look at me, before returning listlessly to their activity.

I find a seat by itself in a corner of the room, and sit down in a plush, sapphire blue, armchair. My elbows hit the table in front of me, and I place my face in my hands. I don’t know what to do with myself lately. I should be focussed on returning the Malfoy name to grace, on improving my studies, on making ‘friends’. But all I can think about is a boy with messy black hair, emerald eyes, and glowing skin. He races through my mind even when I’m unconscious, and I can’t seem to remove him. All the work we have to do together doesn’t help, either. Spending hours next to Potter reading about the Curse of the Bogies is comforting, something which has been continuous all term. Preparing for the Halloween Party is a strange, new ‘thing’ that requires much more talking. This is proving to be a bit more difficult, as neither of us think enough before we speak. I feel myself falling down a spiral of water, slipping deeper into my mind. I know I won’t be able to surface by myself, but I don’t really care. Potter is the only thing that can stop me drowning now, but he won’t come to rescue me. I know that. So instead I pull myself out, gasping when my mind clears.

The Common Room is dark, quiet, and empty. I’m the only one in sight, and I’m shocked with the sense of nothingness. For a second, I think I’m back in the Slytherin Commons, surrounded by unresponsive stone and cold water. But I know I’m not, and slowly but surely the purple, blue, and light wood comes into focus once more. I physically shake my head, a habit I’ve picked up from Potter, and shakily stand. Scanning the room, I release that I’m not actually alone, and that there are three people sitting in front of an empty fireplace. Two of them are leaning on each other sleeping, and the other one is reading peacefully. As I approach the staircase, the person who was reading catches sight of me. They place their book down on a table gently, and step over their friends to come over to me. Their bob of dark hair and pale skin reveals them to be a girl. As she paces closer, I recognise her in the dark. It’s Pansy.

She stops just short of me and scowls. “Hey, Malfoy.” Her voice is gravelly and raucous, and she is clearly annoyed at me.

“Hello Pansy,” I reply placidly.

“I’ve noticed that you’ve not so much as waved at me since the train. Why’s that, huh? What did I ever do to you?!”

“Pansy, look. Calm down for a second.”

“No! You’ve ignored me all term, and I want to know why!”

“Ok,” I take a deep breath. “I have been spending a lot of time-”

“-with Potter? I know.”

“No! Well, yes, but no!”

“Then what, huh?”

“I have been spending a lot of time studying, working on assignments, tutoring younger students, and doing things as House Representative. Oh, don’t look at me like that Pansy, it’s true.” I pause to catch my breath and she cuts in.

“Yeah, but you could’ve at least made an effort to speak to me!”

“I did! So many times I’ve come looking for you, only to be told you’re with some Ravenclaw girls who-knows-where! Look. I’m sorry I haven’t spoken to you much, but you really are overreacting. It’s only been a couple of weeks.”

“Well, yes. But you could’ve sat with me in class, or during meals!”

“In class I’ve been sitting by myself so I can concentrate, and you’ve been sitting with the Ravenclaw girls at meals. I wasn’t going to sit with them.”

Pansy sighs, before evidently surrendering. “Fine. But don’t expect me to want to cooperate like I used to. I’ll sit with you at meals but nothing else.” I just stare at her and nod my head. She’s gone out of her mind, more so than usual. I bid her goodnight before traipsing up the stairs and into my dormitory.

~~~~~~~~

Potter stares longingly into my eyes, his own blazing with desire. His finger trails down my jaw, tracing the lines my bones create under my skin. He dips his finger down onto my neck, carving zigzags into it. I feel shivers travel down my spine, and I push into his touch. His hand is back under my chin, and he lifts my face up towards him. He leans in close to me, and his breath flutters against my cheeks. He is so close to me I can see each pore, each tiny freckle laid gently on his warm skin. I press into his hand further and our foreheads are ever-so-slightly touching each other. His emerald eyes bore into my steely ones, and I feel myself melt into his touch. He is the first one to break, and draws my lips up to his own. His kiss feels warm, soft, and careful. I kiss him back slowly, hesitant at first. Eventually, the kiss builds up, and suddenly it’s filled with passion, energy, and desire. His tongue pushes against my lips, and I part them happily. He enters my mouth, running his tongue along the teeth and gums. It solicits a moan from me, and I bring my tongue towards his. Rubbing mine over his, I push him back to his own mouth. Our tongues dance within our mouths, and it makes my head spin. I pull away for a second. My eyes linger on his lips, red, pink, and wet. He is gorgeous. Our heavy breaths fill the silent room, and he smiles at me. This time it’s me who breaks, and I pull him towards me again, loving the sensation of kissing Potter.

He pushes me back and suddenly we are in a bedroom somewhere. I land softly on a yellow duvet, before staring at the boy above me. He rips his shirt off his back, and throws the grey fabric across the room. His bare chest is smooth and seamless, utterly perfect. He leans over me before touching his lips to mine once again. His lean body is pressing down on mine, and his hands start roaming down my sides. I break out in goosebumps and shiver beneath Potter. He sits up and places his thighs on either side of my hips, our crotches lining up and rubbing together. His hair falls over his face as he gazes down at me, his eyes glassed over. He murmurs something I can’t quite catch, before pulling me up to him.

“This needs to go, don’t you think?” He questions, his voice breathy. Not waiting for my response, his hands slide up my back and pull my shirt off gently, before throwing it over his shoulder. I groan as his lips meet mine again, slowly pushing me onto my back. His hands roam over my bare stomach, trying to memorise the curve of my bony torso. Then, while one hand is up in my hair, his other trails down below my belly button and towards the button of my jeans.

He looks at me, waiting for my confirmation for him to continue. When I nod, he rises onto his knees and away from my torso. His hands find my belt and rush to unfasten it. When it is out of the way, he sets his smouldering gaze on mine, and stares at me as he undoes my button. His fingers find my fly, and starts to unzip my jeans. His mouth latches onto my earlobe and nips at it, pulling it away from my face. Once they are undone, he moves his kisses to my neck, and starts sucking at the soft skin he finds. At the same time, he lets his hands pull my pants down around my thighs. This leaves my underwear for him to discard, and then my naked skin. I feel my body quiver in anticipation, seeing stars under Potter’s hands and mouth. I melt into his touch, but still manage to open my eyes when his hand runs along the elastic of my underwear. He lowers his hand and finds my bulging cock waiting for him. He palms it gently, moaning himself. He moves down me and slowly licks the cotton around my erection. I release an animalistic hiss and Potter looks up at me, delighted. While his mouth is busy, his hand are not, and they go to pull down my briefs. He slides them off my hips, and his mouth leaves a trail of kisses down my thighs. His hungry eyes tick to my cock, and they light up. He kisses his way back up to my crotch and breathes my scent in. His hands are now on either side of my sensitive skin, and I’m making quiet, mewling sounds. But as soon as his hand grabs around my throbbing erection, the scene wilts. It burns away until I’m left alone, in a silent, cold, stone room. Water is dripping in puddles on the floor. My hands twist in something I can’t see, and a scream is ripped from my throat.

When my heart stops thudding out of my chest, I realise what I just woke up from. I dreamed of him, again. I sit up from under my covers and draw my knees into my chest. My face is burning from embarrassment, even if it’s caused by a dream that no one else saw. The bed below me suddenly feels stiff, and uncomfortable. Nothing like the soft, warm, cocoon that greeted me earlier tonight. My hands are pressing hard into the skin right beneath my knee, and I want to leave bruises. I want to mark the disappointment I feel, on my body. I press in harder, and I hiss in pain. It stings in just the right way that it feels delicious. Removing my fingers from my leg, I pull them towards my face. I rub small, soothing circles into my cheeks, before slowly moving my fingers to my eyes. I push into them, feeling them turn numb. The light pressure calms my anxious mind and I slowly let myself go and slump against my pillow. Now that I’ve calmed down, I can hear the patter of rain hitting the roof somewhere, and Blaise’s deep breathing. I gaze around my small curtained bed, and I notice my sheets twisted and pulled out of place. Picking up my wand from my bedside table, I mutter a charm to set my bed to rights. Pressing my hands to my eyes once again, I sink back into my covers and lie down. I tuck myself into a little ball, and hold my hands close to my heart. As I drift into an uneasy sleep, my mind decides to plague my consciousness one last time. _ I told you, Draco, to not go down that road. Look where it’s gotten you…  _

~~~~~~~~

The sound of conversation drifts throughout the Great Hall, voices and random words appearing in other people’s chatter. Most of it is pointless banter about the next Appleby Arrows vs Wimbourne Wasps Quidditch match, and everyone arguing over which team is going to win this time. I overhear a couple of students babble about relationships and family back home, and I try to ignore the hollow feeling and tune them out. True to my word, I’m sitting next to Pansy at the Slytherin table, buttering a piece of toast. She looks quite happy to see me, and is talking nonsense while daintily eating fruit. She starts off by mentioning her studies, since she knows I’m paying quite a lot of attention to my own this year. Eventually, our conversation shifts into more interesting things, like what her new friends have been doing and who they are seeing. I feel my face blush pink as Pansy informs me that she has recently developed a crush on a Ravenclaw boy. Her bob of dark hair moves around as she speaks, a sign that she finds the conversation interesting. I wish I could share that opinion. All her talk about this guy is wearing me out, and I think she notices.

“Hey, Draco. Are you okay?” She verbalises her concern, her voice silvery.

I nod at her and sigh. “I’m just tired.”

Pansy considers this for a moment before answering. “I’ve seen you tired. You didn’t look like this. It’s something else, isn’t it? You can tell me, you know?” I shake my head in rejection, and watch as her eyes lose their light.

“I’m sorry Pansy, but I don’t want to talk about it.” It’s her turn to nod now, and she reaches her hand over to my wrist.

She rubs lines over my skin and leans in to my ear. “Well, when you decide you want to talk, you can come get me.” Her whisper lingers in my mind as she stands up and paces over to the Ravenclaw table to join her new friends. I follow her with my eyes, feeling utterly lost as she walks away from me. I feel myself drowning again now that my temporary anchor is gone, and bow my head. My half-eaten piece of toast calls to me, and I raise it unenthusiastically to my mouth. It tastes bland and unappetising, and I quickly place it back onto my plate. Deciding I’ve had enough for now, I swallow the last of my coffee and take my leave from the Slytherin table.

Heads turn when I stand, curious eyes watching as I step away from breakfast. I keep my own eyes on the floor for most of the way to the exit, only lifting the, at the last second. Everyone has already forgotten me, and have turned back to their friends. Well, nearly everyone. I catch a pair of shocking green eyes out of my peripheral vision and turn to see who it is. I immediately regret my decision when I observe that it’s Potter staring at me, his eyes an entrancing shade of shamrock. When he realises that he’s been spotted, he has the nerve to smirk at me. And then he takes in my emotionless eyes as I roll them, and a look of worry crosses his face.

Not being able to stand his inspection of my face, I pull the great doors in and glide out of the Hall. I walk briskly down the corridor and through to the nearest bathroom. The heavy door slams behind me and I cross the spacious, white and gold bathroom. Stopping in front of the mirror, I turn on the tap and freezing water gushes out. I let it rove over my hands, the water just cold enough to start aching. I splash my abnormally pale face and rake my fingers over my cheeks. I stare into my reflection and watch my Adam’s apple bob as I swallow. The pale skin lifts and drops in time, and I can’t help but think that my throat is quite slender and a bit pink. Ugly by all means. The sound of the door slamming draws me from my stupor, and I rush into a cubicle so as not to be disturbed. Footsteps cross quickly over the floor, sneakers squeaking on the tiles. They stop suddenly, as if the person wearing them is looking around the room. And then the footsteps pick up again, and I hear them approaching my cubicle on the far side of the bathroom. A shadow creeps under the blue door and I try to figure out who it is.

A sharp knock startles me and I inhale rapidly. The knock comes again, persistent, and I draw my wand from my robes. Standing mere centimetres from the intruder, I prepare a list of curses and charms to fire off, and I hold my breath, waiting. An impatient sigh fills the room, and the shadow moves closer. 

“I know you’re in there, Draco.” A shiver goes up through my body when Potter says my birth name, and I relax considerably. “Come out, its okay,” he tries again, his voice softly spoken. I unlock the door and pull it towards me, standing awkwardly in the small cubicle. His eyes meet mine, and I’m overwhelmed by the sincerity of them. I must look a mess, and I run my fingers through my hair in frustration.

“You called me Draco,” I state. “Again.” Potter just nods, and tilts his head to the side when he glimpses my broken expression. Without saying a word, he moves out of the doorway and into the bathroom behind him, leaving room for me to exit the cubicle. I catch a glance of my reflection in one of the mirrors opposite me, and start towards it.

My hands find the edge of the sink and grip hard, my tendons showing in my wrists. Potter follows behind me, so close to my back it’s almost suffocating. Almost. I stare into my own eyes and feel like crying, my world crashing down on me for no reason at all. He stretches his arms out to touch my back, and his hands press in firmly. My eyes flutter closed and I sigh, enjoying his warm touch. He starts moving his hands up and down, comforting me in the only way he knows how. He remains silent, hands working their magic, and leans in closer to me. His head nestles next to mine resting on my shoulder, and I briefly think that he fits perfectly against me. _ Don’t go there, Draco.  _ I take a couple of deep breaths, and realise that Potter’s hands have stopped moving. He is pressing up against me now, my entire back covered by him. His hands sneak their way around me, and grab for my own hands. He pries them away from the sink and clutches them tightly. He rubs circles into my skin and I slowly start feeling better. I open my eyes again and stare at my reflection. My skin is looking less pale now, and my eyes once again look like they have feeling within them. I look to the side and see that Potter has his eyes resting on me. The brilliant green is filled with emotions that I don’t want to place, and we stare at each other for a couple of minutes in silence. His hands leave mine and snake back around to his sides. He steps back and watches as I turn around to face him.

“Draco,” he tests my name out, rolling it around in his mouth. He looks at me expectantly, and I realise that he wants me to say his name.

“Harry.” It sounds weird and forgein on my tongue. I have never allowed myself to say it before, for fear of going down a path I know I shouldn’t. And right now, I feel myself sprinting down that same path, and I know I should stop and turn around, but I can’t.

Harry, no Potter, takes a confident step forwards and is less than an arm’s reach away from me.

“I was serious about restarting, Draco. I can’t keep on with this spite-filled relationship. I need more.” I can feel my eyes go wide, and for a second I think he’s going to step even closer. Of course, he doesn’t. _ Turn around, Draco. _

“What do you mean?” I add a touch of a sneer into my voice, not wanting him to see inside me anymore.

Potter lets out a pained breath and looks at me like I’ve suddenly grown a second head. “Oh Draco.” he shakes his head and my gut twists. “I want to be friends. I don’t know why I want to be friends with an arrogant bastard, but I do. Okay?” I feel the room go warm and I swallow thickly. _ Friends…  _ It feels like he should’ve said more, but I ignore the nagging thought.

“Sure,” I respond, my voice thick and choked. He cocks his head to the side, his sparkling eyes reflecting my silver ones. I watch as he blinks, and then he’s taking another step towards me. I think that he’s going to kiss me, slowly stepping into my personal space. Instead of kissing me, though, he opens his arms and pulls me into a hug. This close, I can smell his cologne. Cypress wood once again floods my senses, and his hair tickles the back of my neck. Potter’s hands rub up and down my back, not to comfort me this time, but from happiness. As we break apart and look at each other, I once again feel something inside me shift.

Friends with Harry Potter. I can’t think of a more dangerous situation I’ve put my emotions in. Oh no.

~~~~~~~~

It’s the beginning of Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Professor Falco has given us some time to work on our assignments. Each pair has a dedicated table in the room, and some space to practise if need be. I sweep my eyes over the other pairs in the room, and notice that they are all working happily. Potter and I, are not. Well, I’m not. Potter is trying to find any more information on the Curse of the Bogies, and I’m meant to be practising the actual curse. However, while I’m standing and waiting in line for some room to cast, my gaze keeps finding Potter. His head is bent over the textbook, and his fingers drum impatiently on the desk. Whenever he turns the page, he licks his index finger, and of course my eyes keep falling on that. I hate myself for it, and force my sight to the line in front of me.

The student at the front of the line is trying to cast some complex charm, and keeps sending sparks flying from the end of her wand. She flicks her blonde hair off her shoulder again, before raising her arm. After another failed attempt, Professor Falco calls out, “Miss Brocklehurst. If you could please sit down and maybe your partner could try the spell?” The Ravenclaw nods sullenly before stalking off to her friend.

The line slowly dissipates and soon I’m at the front. I glance behind me at Potter and see him watching me. I lift my right arm and grip my wand tightly. Moving the length of hawthorn in a droplet formation, I chant the incantation.

“Mucus ad Nauseam!” It works, and a green light flies from the end of my wand and hits the wall opposite me. I watch disgusted as snot drips onto the floor.

“Well down Mr. Malfoy,” Professor Falco claps. The students turn to look at me and notice the mess on the wall. When they figure it out they all turn up their noses. Walking back to my desk, I note Potter’s eyes meeting mine across the room. He gives a swift nod as I arrive, and smiles when I sit down next to him. I pick up my quill and start noting down what happened when I cast the curse. I mention the fact that I did it successfully after the first time, meaning it’s quite easy to cast. I refer to the green light and the resulting snot that dropped down the wall, unusual because it’s supposed to give the victim a cold, not fire a ball of snot. As I’m writing down different theories, his hand brushes my arm. Startled, I raise my eyes to his face and furrow my brows as his hand closes around mine. When he removes his hand, I see a ball of parchment.

“Open it,” he whispers. Taking care to do so silently, I unscrunch his note. It reads;

~Marvelous job on the incantation. Meet me next to the lake tomorrow night after you tutor whichever kid’s turn it is?~

Unaware of the grin that’s crept onto my face, I nod subtlety to him. His face lights up and he goes back to work writing out the beginnings of our essay.

~~~~~~~~

Rain slams heavily onto the roof of Hogwarts, and wind is throwing parchment around everywhere. The First Years scream as a particularly loud clap of thunder rings in our ears. The storm was supposed to be a quick and quiet affair. No such luck, though. It immediately became clear that it was going to be a tough day to get anything done. Walking through the undercover corridor from the Herbology greenhouses back into the castle, I’m worried that the Third Year I’m meant to be meeting with again today will cancel on me. Not that he needs much help, he is a natural at Potions, even if he pretends otherwise. Regardless, I make my way through the passages and down into the stone walls that surround the Potions Classroom. I push into the door and step into the cold room. My footsteps echo through the class, and I place my books onto the teacher’s desk at the front of the class. I start to set up the equipment that we’ll use today, and wait quietly for the boy to make an appearance.

I’m sitting in an uncomfortable wooden chair reading one of the books I brought with me when I hear knock at the door. I call out to open the door, and a scared Third Year pokes his head in. I gesture for him to leave the doorway, and he tentatively walks into the room.

“Excuse me, sir. It’s about Edward Ball.” I raise an eyebrow as I recognise that name as the student I’m meant to be tutoring. “He has been admitted to the Hospital Wing due to a crash in Flying Practise. I was told to tell you…” he trails off and takes in my reaction.

“Of course, thank you.” The Third Year retreats and exits the room, and I put my book down. Sighing in frustration, I set the class back to how I found it, returning all the equipment to the shelves. I was planning to be here for about two hours, and now I suddenly have lots of free time. I could always go meet Potter early… The thought is a good idea, but I don’t want to seem too excited to see him. So I instead leave the dungeons and traipse over to the library to return some of the unused books from today.

The corridors are silent this deep into the school. Most people are watching the storm collide with the ground, but I’d rather not. There’s too many memories that storms bring up. Instead, I’d rather sit in front of a fire reading, or hanging out with friends. Not that I can do that last one anymore… The further I walk, the more people I come about. Most of them are small groups and pairs, couples even, and they are just sitting on the ground playing games. I don’t know any of them, but they all know me. Faces turn to stare at me as I pass, raising eyebrows and cocking heads to the side.

“Hey, Malfoy! Off to destroy the school again?!” One girl yells to me. Her friends clearly find that hilarious, so I decide to play too.

“Yep!” I reply, and for good measure, I throw her a thumbs up before turning away. As I turn the corner into a different corridor I hear silence and then laughing. Pleased with myself, I speed up and make my way to the library.

Once inside, I realise that it’s empty. Madam Pince lifts her head in surprise and shoots me a quizzical look. As I step further into the room, I flash her the books I want to return and she beckons me to her desk.

Passing her the books, I ask, “Where is everyone?”

“The library has been rather silent these last few weeks,” she comments, sighing. I laugh inside myself at the irony. “Most people either seem too busy to actually stay in the library, or just don’t want to be here. It’s quite sad when you think about it.” Not knowing what to say, I nod my head at her. “Sorry, I’ve been rambling.”

“It’s fine, really. I always did like the library…” I trail off and Madam Pince asks me if I need anything else. I shake my head and make to leave the library. Stopping short, I turn back to her.

“Actually…” I start telling her about Potter and I’s assignment, and how we’re struggling to find the information. She listens, lost in thought, before giving me her answer.

~~~~~~~~

I’m going to be late meeting Potter. I’m speed walking, well, practically running, towards the lake. Whatever he wants, it must be important. Or personal… I can’t let myself go down that path, and I push the thought away. The storm is still relentlessly crashing onto school grounds, and I have multiple shield and warming charms around my body. The ground under my feet shifts and I realise that I’m now on grass. Dirt sludges below me as I slow down my pace to a walk, not wanting to trip or to seem eager to see him. The lake reveals itself as I get to the top of a small hill, and I scan the area, looking. Just to the left of where I’m standing, I catch sight of someone staring into the water. Potter… I call out to him and see his mop of black hair twist to face me. He raises an arm and I cross the muddy grass over to him.

As I halt just a couple of metres before him, my gut wrenches, and he breaks out into a smile.

“Thought maybe you wouldn’t come…” He sounds thrilled to see me.

“Of course I was going to come!” I scoff at him.

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t doubt it…” He breaks off and I feel awful that he would think that for even a second. “Anyway. I wanted to speak to you. Privately.”

“I figured that out on my own already. Unlike you, I am perfectly capable of understanding implications.”

Laughing, he responds with, “I’m sure you are. Ok then, why did I ask you here?”

“I may have a couple ideas.”

“Want to tell me?”

“Not particularly, no.”

He snorts gently at me, and I manage a soft smile. “Do you want to know then?” I let my mouth twist into what I hope mimics a smirk, although I’m not sure. As I’m waiting for him to answer, he takes a step closer to me. The scent of shea butter floods my senses, and I try to ignore the goosebumps breaking out on my neck. When I don’t take a step back, he takes another forward. Amber follows the shea butter, and I am suddenly intoxicated on the smell of Potter. I’m standing deathly still, not wanting to scare him away or give the wrong insinuation.

Walking even closer to me, he reaches for my arm. His touch is warm and gentle, yet firm, and I relax into it. We are now so close I can see all of the tiny freckles spreading over his nose. His shamrock eyes close in on mine, and I can’t help thinking that they shine like emeralds. His breathing has shallowed, and a very faint pink coats his cheeks. It’s rather cute… He blinks, and I’m drawn out of my thoughts. His hand leaves my arm, and instead snakes its way to my hip. I gasp and lower my eyes to his hand. A soft pressure on my chin forces me to lift my head and meet his eyes. My breathing became irregular sometime ago, and now my palms are sweating. Oh, come on Draco…. Potter looks like fire and smoke, eyes boring into mine, threatening to set me alight. The soft hand on my hip tightens it’s grasp and moves further around to my back. The gentle hand on my chin also moves, and he is suddenly clutching the side of my neck. Feeling stupid standing here, I lift my own hands and place one on his waist and the other on his chest. I can feel each of his breaths and lose myself in the feel of him.

After what seems like ages of staring, Potter finally pulls me even closer to him. Our foreheads graze each other and he groans. Impatient as always, my waist is suddenly pulled snug against his, snapping into place. We fit perfectly together and I close my eyes in ecstasy. When I open them, his mouth is hanging slightly open, and his eyes are glazed over. He shifts his forehead away from mine and I whimper. But I swallow that sound as his lips meet mine. A spark shoots through my body, and I kiss back, hesitant at first. Our mouths dance slowly, gently, feeling the other person and how perfectly we fit together. I pull away and gaze into his face, not meeting his eyes. He breathes erratically and traces my cheek with his thumb. Our foreheads are placed together again and I close my eyes.

When I finally kiss him again, I pour out all my feelings into it. Our lips once again dance, and his mouth feels perfect. Warm, accepting, sweet, strong. We forget the rain around us, and the other students up in the castle, and focus all our energy into the kiss. I never once thought I’d actually be kissing Potter…


	5. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco goes about his life, even though he has been interrupted by the Golden Trip. Harry, however, breaks down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this was a little late... I got caught up in real life😅 Anyway, I made myself a tumblr! It’s just “devilrising” so come follow me!

It seemed like I was by the lake for hours. Rain pouring down around me, thunder clapping randomly overhead, and the feel of a solid and warm body against my own. I can still feel his lips on mine, still feel his body pressed flush against me, even a couple of days afterwards. I remember that after we had pulled apart, Potter had stared into my eyes. The clover-coloured spheres holding every emotion he was feeling, his heart on his sleeve. I think back to our conversation, and feel my heart warm a bit in my chest.

“Hmmm,” Potter had hummed, contentment evident on his face.

“Indeed…” I murmured into his ear.

“Hey, Draco?” A shiver raced up my body when he said my name.

“Mmm.”

“Can I ask you something? Well, two somethings?”

“Trust you to say a sentence like ‘two somethings’, but sure.”

“Ok, well. One, please call me Harry, not Potter,” he took a shaky breath. “And two. Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?” I had stared at him for ages, wondering if he was serious. Eventually, I had realised that _ yes Draco,  _ he is very serious. After all, were you not just kissing him?

“Yes!” I blurted out, joy evident on my features. I don’t remember much past that, except for Potter - no, Harry kissing me again.

I smile just thinking about the memory, and let it rest on my face as I walk to my third class for the day. Potions. This year has been quite boring regarding Potions, everything either being revision or common elixirs. As I enter the stone walls that make up the classroom, I find a desk to the right of the room and sit down in a wooden chair. I unpack my books and place some parchment, ink, and quills onto my desk. The room is already nearly full of students, and I try hard to ignore them as I get ready. The chatter just quiets down as Professor Slughorn stalks into the class.

“Good afternoon, students.” He paces to his desk, sets down his things, and turns to face us.

“I trust you’ve completed the assigned homework?” Pausing, he waits for us to nod. “Good. Now then, if you would please come into the centre table, bringing your wands. Today we are looking at the Elixir to Induce Euphoria.” A cheer rises around the room and we all step towards the long table stretching down the middle of the class. I find a spot to stand behind a Gryffindor with messy blonde hair who I don’t recognise, and observe the cauldron on the desk. Inside of it, a rather normal-looking, yellow potion is bubbling cheerfully.

“Ok class. This particular potion is unfinished, as I would like to show you what happens when it is completed.” Slughorn states, before picking up a stirring rod, and stirring it six times anti-clockwise. No later than the last rotation has ended, then the potion emits a beautiful rainbow. The class collectively gasp, myself included.

“Glad to see none of you knew that would happen,” Slughorn chuckles. “Anyway, as you can see, the potion has become a sunshine yellow colour. This is quite appropriate, as yellow is often depicted as the happiest colour.” He surveys the room before gesturing for the Gryffindor in front of me to come forward.

“Miss King,” Slughorn nods to the cauldron, “tell the class. What do you smell?”

King stutters for a while, before getting out, “It’s sweet. Almost like perfume.” She looks to Slughorn, who is beaming. He tells her to go back to her spot, and continues his lecture.

“Indeed, it is a sweet-smelling potion, meant to induce happiness. This potion is advanced, and therefore quite difficult. This isn’t normally taught at Hogwarts, but I believe that you will find it a very beneficial elixir,” he informs us, before instructing us to retrieve our ingredients and start preparing the potion.

I walk back to my desk and start placing my books onto the ground below it, waiting for everyone else to collect their ingredients. I stand silently, my hand drumming against my leg, impatient. I look over to a wall and read a few of the posters, claiming the most ludicrous things about potions. Seeing that the other students have cleared away, I cross the room and start looking. I spot the Shrivelfig instantly, along with the Wormwood and the Sopophorous Beans. The Porcupine Quills and Peppermint Sprigs, on the other hand, were harder to find. Satisfied with my ingredients, I pace back to my desk and lay them out in piles.

Picking up my knife, I start cutting. My hand moves without thought, just like when I write, and I zone out, but only partially. _ Don’t want to get caught.  _ Every time I feel my knife hit the cutting board on the table, a sense of contentment races through me. I push the first pile off to the side, and drag the next one closer to me. I once again start cutting, but I don’t get very far before the class is interrupted.

“Hey! Malfoy! Bones! Goldstein! We need to go to the Great Hall!” I whip my head around and glare as Harry shouts. I groan as I realise he is, in fact, correct. _ I’d forgotten about the meetings…  _I lift my wand and float my equipment away.

“He’s right. We have a House Representative meeting on today,” Bones explains to a confused Professor Slughorn. He waves a dismissive hand at the four of us, and we collectively exit the Potions classroom.

~~~~~~~~

After the last three meetings of being dragged outside, Goldstein has decided that today he is staying inside.

“Oh come on!” Bones argues. “The lake is beautiful! Besides, we have already planned all of it.” Goldstein’s mouth drops open, lost for an argument of his own.

“What if we swapped over and looked at what the others have done? And then meet up at the end to discuss opinions?” I counter Bones, and smirk at her. Goldstein shoots me a thankful look and nods. Harry just laughs and passes over the parchment with all of our plans on it. I receive an answering page with the plans for the lake carefully written on. I run my eyes over the neat lines, before Harry rips it from my hands and reads it with a First Year’s excitedness.

Thinking that we should probably leave the Great Hall, I grab Harry’s arm and haul him towards the doors. He tugs his arm free of mine and pulls one of the doors open. I can hear Bones shouting, and am silently quite glad to be out of her wrath. The walk to the school grounds passes quickly, and soon we are covered in sunlight and stepping on lush grass. I turn to look at Harry, and am temporarily blinded by the sun.

Raising my hand to my eyes I jest, “Well come on, then. Race me to the lake!”

Without waiting for his response, I set off running down a stretch of grass. The sound of footsteps follows me, and I smirk at Harry’s attempt at running. Pushing myself into a sprint, I race up a hill and down the other side. By the time I come to a halt in front of the lake, I’m out of breath and horribly flushed. All the same, I whip around to watch as he comes up behind me, slowing his pace awkwardly. I pump my hand in the air and he huffs at me before smiling and stepping into my space. My breath catches and my blush deepens, burning into my cheeks.

Harry laughs at my shocked expression, and places a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose. Scowling at him, I drag his face to mine and clamp our lips together. He laughs again before returning the kiss. I try to push into it, deepening it, but he resists. My stomach lurches and I revel in the feeling of it, familiar. He makes sure it stays gentle and calm, lips dancing for a second, and then pulls away.

“Come on. We have work to do,” Harry chuckles. I smack his arm lightly and say ‘whatever, you dork’ before pulling Goldstein’s parchment from my robes. Harry once again rips it from my clutch, and starts pacing around.

“Bones wants a group of tables over here, adjacent to the lake. Looks like it is the refreshments table,” Harry starts. I nod, it makes sense. “There is a jukebox over there,” he points opposite the tables, “ and another there,” he moves his hand a smidge to the left. He walks over a couple metres before stopping in front of the lake, confusion riddling his features. 

“Well that doesn’t make sense…” I frown at him and ask what he means. “They want to put a dance floor here.” I quirk an eyebrow, not seeing why that’s a problem. I tell him as such. “You can’t put a dance floor so close to water. It would explode!” I want to howl with laughter at him, but I don’t let myself.

“Oh Harry.”

“What?! What am I missing?”

He sounds exasperated, and I delight in making my answer slow and painful. “Harry. Magic. It won’t explode, because there will be protective charms over it.” He seems to accept that, but I’m not done tormenting him yet. “Anyway. It wouldn’t be electric. It would be magic. We aren’t muggles!” I let out a little giggle, and am pleased to see him smile a bit too. 

“So we aren’t.” He starts reading again, and moves onto the next thing on the list.

~~~~~~~~

Classes are ending by the time we finish at the lake, and as we walk back to the Great Hall we are crowded with students. Some of them shoot us confused, suspicious looks, and others just ignore us. _ It must be confusing seeing Harry and I walking civilly with each other…  _ I resist the urge to grab onto him and hold his hand, and instead drum my fingers against my leg.

“Hey, Harry!” It’s Weasley. I feel Harry turn to face him, and I do the same. When Weasley sees that I’m here, he frowns.

“What are you doing with Malfoy, mate?”

“Oh, um. House Representative stuff, you know?”

“Oh, right.” He looks determinedly away from me, and I scowl openly. “So, when will you be finished? ‘Mione was thinking that we should head to Hogsmeade.” Harry tips his head, confused

“Hogsmeade?”

“Yeah mate! She got permission from McGonagall, even!”

“How come…?”

“Well, technically we are going in order to study ‘how butterbeer is like making potions’ or something,” he raises his voice an octave and signs air quotes with his fingers. Harry nods at Weasley and informs him that we are nearly done.

”Ok mate. See ya soon!” Weasley turns on his heel and lumbers off down the corridor. He somehow finds the courage to shoot me a scowl, and I just smirk at him.

“So… Hogsmeade huh? Har- Potter.” I catch myself before saying his name in front of everyone.

“Yeah, seems so…” He rubs his neck. We walk the rest of the way in comfortable silence, stealing glances out of our peripheral every once and awhile. When we reach the Great Hall, I reach for the handle and push the door inwards. Harry pushes in front of me, and pulls me in after him. The door closes with a loud bang behind us, and we pace to where Bones and Goldstein are waiting.

“Took you long enough,” Goldstein jabs. I hold my hands up in defence and take a set opposite him. Bones starts talking about our plans, and saying that most of it is fine. She says something about wanting to change the pumpkin juice fountains, and I grin behind my hand.

“No!” Harry defends. “You are not changing my fountains!” I laugh and inform Bones that I’ve already tried. She scoffs, but gives in regardless.

“Your plans were pretty good too,” I offer to the other pair. “Although. Potter here did have a problem with the dance floor.” He turns to me, exasperation written across his face.

“Oh yeah,” Goldstein coos.

“Yeah,” I snicker. “I then reminded him that magic exists, and nothing will explode.” The others burst out laughing, but Harry isn’t happy. His hand finds my thigh under the table, and his punishing fingers squeeze. Hard.

He makes no movement to give him away to the others, and I’m forced to keep quiet. He moves his hand up higher, and my breath catches. Thankfully, Goldstein was arguing with Harry about something or another, and no one heard. I find his hand with my own, and I try to pry his fingers off of me. He just grips harder.

“So, I guess we’re done for today,” Bones announces.

“Not quite. Someone needs to go debrief to McGonagall,” I remind them all. Goldstein groans and Harry sighs, clearly having forgotten.

“Who did it last time?” Bones asks.

“I did,” Harry replies.

“I guess it’s my turn then,” I remark. Heads turn, surprised that I offered. I roll my eyes before collecting my things. I move to stand, and realise that Harry’s hand is still clutching my thigh.

For some reason, I’m suddenly compelled to kiss him. Compelled to wrap my arms around his neck and waist, to pull him flush against me, and to press our lips hard together. But I can’t, so instead I smack his hand silently under the table. He gets the message and removes it, and I stand from the table. My footsteps echo around the hall as my feet hit stone, and the great doors groan as I pull them in.

~~~~~~~~

Headmistress McGonagall’s office is absurdly different to how it was when Dumbledore occupied it. The bookshelves may still be there, but all the books have been replaced. They are now organised neatly, all the colours bright and the volumes thick. Torches and candles cover every surface, flooding the darkness away with light. I gaze around in awe, and take in the office. A gentle cough startled me out of my daze, and I look up to see McGonagall waiting.

“Hello, Malfoy.” Her voice is soft and welcoming, but also commands attention. “I believe your here to, enlighten, me about the Halloween party plan?”

“Yes, Headmistress.”

“Well, get to it then.”

I spend the next forty minutes relaying my conversation with the other House Representatives, and everything we have done today. Her face gives nothing away for most of it, but occasionally she smiles. She waves away all the issues we have come across, saying they will be seen to. Eventually, I’m finished, and I stand from the comfortable, purple chair I was sitting in.

“Very good, Mr. Malfoy. I’ll be sure to talk to the other teachers, and instruct the house elves in what to do.” That last bit confuses me.

“I’m sorry, Headmistress. But aren’t  _ we  _ going to be setting it up?”

McGonagall furrows her brows, before replying, “I guess you can, if you would like. I just assumed none of you would want to set up.”

“Oh, well. I do!”

“Glad to hear it, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points to Slytherin! Anyway, ask the others, and those who want to set up will receive a message through the parchment I gave you in the first meeting.” I nod my head at her, before taking my leave through the grand double doors.

“Hey, Malfoy!” Expecting Harry to wrap his arms around my waist like he’s been doing, I’m startled when I’m instead shoved against a wall. Except now I can see that it’s _ not  _ Harry, but is in fact Weasley. He aims a fist at my face, and flings it forward. I rapidly bring a hand of my own up, and take his fist into my palm. There was a lot of strength behind that punch, but thankfully my head will never know it. Weasley’s face goes red at how easily I dodged his punch, and his grip loosens for a second.  _ A second is all I need.  _ I bring my leg up and thrust it into his gut, knocking him back and making him double over in pain. He groans and rubs his stomach as push myself off the wall.

“What was that about?!” I shout at his hunched form. The only reply I receive is a grunt from behind his ginger hair. “What did I even do?! I haven’t spoken to you all year!”

“It’s not what you’ve done to me! It’s what you’ve done to Harry!”

“What have I done to Potter?!”

“You’ve corrupted him!”

“Corrupted?”

“Yes.”

I take a breath to calm down, and when I speak again my voice is no longer shaking. “The only thing I’ve done is be forced to work with him. And that’s not even my fault.”

“Not that! I thought you were supposed to be clever Malfoy…” The last is mumbled, but I heard it none the less. “He has been spending all his free time with you! Turning us down because he has to ‘go study for DADA’ or ‘help Malfoy with the party’. I’m sick of it! I’m sick of you wasting his time!”

“So you’re dealing with that by putting me in the Hospital Wing?” I ask coolly. Weasley just sputters. “I’ve not done anything to Harry, and you would have to be blind to miss that.”

“Harry…” I raise an eyebrow. “You called him Harry…” Realising my mistake, I walk away from him quickly. I turn to look at Weasley when I turn into a new corridor, but he is shaking his head and muttering to himself.

~~~~~~~~

**Harry climbs through the doorway into the Eighth Year Common Room, and finds a plush, blue couch to flop into. Taking no notice of anyone else, he pulls out some parchment and ink, and starts to write his Transfiguration essay. He finds it ridiculous that he has to write a twenty inch essay, and grumbles his way through the first inch. Thinking that he’s done well, he goes to read over what his written. He is then horrified at the mess of ink blots dancing on the page.**

**“Of course I stuffed up something as simple as writing…” he murmurs to no one in particular. His attention is drawn away from his ‘work’ by someone sitting down next to him. He turns and sees Hermione, grinning at him. Ron slides in opposite them, and looks at Harry’s essay.**

**“Oh mate,” he sympathises. Hermione just raises her wand and vanishes it. Harry goes to protest, but it comes out more of a whimper.**

**“Harry. Ronald and I would like to talk to you.” Harry, sensing something unusual going on, lifts his head from the table where he surrendered.**

**“Uh, yeah,” Ron agrees.**

**“But not here,” Hermione pauses. “Come on, let’s go to my dorm.” With a perfectly executed ‘wingardium leviosa’ she suspends Harry’s stuff above their heads. She then has to haul Harry himself off the couch, and drag him to his feet. Ron laughs at the sight, before playfully punching Harry in the arm. Harry’s indignant remark goes noticed, and the trio make their way into Hermione’s room.**

**Ron shoves Harry through the doorway, and sends him sprawling onto a bed. Harry sits up, tries to fix the mess of hair in his face, and then gives up when it doesn’t budge. Sighing at the boy-children of her friends, Hermione closes the door and locks it. She then proceeds to cast multiple silencing and locking charms. She just shrugs when Harry questions her.**

**“So Harry. I -** **_we -_ ** **wanted to discuss something important with you.” Hermione tries to start the conversation.**

**Ron splutters, before remembering that they were here, in fact, to have a serious conversation. “Oh. Yeah. Very important.”**

**Hermione glares at him, whereas Harry just cocks his head in confusion. “It’s about Malfoy.”**

**With this, Harry flops back onto the bed, smothering his face with blankets in order to avoid his friends.**

**“That won’t work with us, Harry. If anything, that just proves there** **_is_ ** **something to talk about,” Hermione tsks.**

**Ron rubs his face with his hands. “Yeah, c’mon mate. Let’s just get this over with.” He pulls Harry back into a sitting position.**

**“Ok Ron, you start by telling him what happened.”**

**“Well, something happened about an hour ago…” Ron starts, sheepish. “I got annoyed with Malfoy hogging all your time, and I confronted him about it. At first, he was quite normal. Rude, snarky, and impatient. He claimed that you were only together all the time because of ‘House Representative duties’ or ‘DADA assignments’. Which, makes sense, I must admit. But still.” He trails off awkwardly. Hermione nods encouragement, and he starts again.**

**“I accused him of wasting your time, and he didn’t think before he replied. He said, and I quote, ‘So you’re dealing with that by putting me in the Hospital Wing? I’ve not done anything to Harry, and you would have to be blind to miss that.’ He called you** **_Harry._ ** **” Hermione places a comforting hand on Ron’s shoulder, and they both watch a Harry for any reaction. When he doesn’t give one, Hermione groans in frustration.**

**“Oh come on, Harry. A couple of months ago he never would’ve called you that!” She exclaims.**

**Harry knows she’s right, and knows that he’s been caught, but still tries to deny it. “Ugh. Ok, fine. We are on friendly-ish terms now. Okay?” Hermione raises an eyebrow, almost like she’s seeing right through his lie. He tries desperately not to think of kissing Draco’s soft mouth. His hands running over his body. Drinking him in with his fingers.**

**Ron can’t hide his disgust at the news. He stares open-mouthed at Harry, who folds into a ball. “What do you mean you’re** **_friends_ ** **with Malfoy?!” Harry rolls his eyes, feeling like his friends are rather useless.**

**“I didn’t say ‘friends’. I said ‘friendly-ish’. There’s a difference.” Ron sags in relief, and Harry feels like he’s been slapped across the face. “I do have something else to discuss, since we are actually having a kind of serious conversation,” Harry announces.**

**“Of course, Harry.” Hermione sits next to him on the small bed, and her arm finds his shoulders. Ron stretches out his own arm, and places his hand around Harry’s forearm. Harry presses into the comforting touch, familiarity swarming him. “I think I-” He pauses. Now that he’s actually going to say it, he can’t find the words. His mind is suddenly buzzing with ‘what ifs’. What if they reject him? What if they hate him? What if they aren’t accepting? What if, what if, what if.**

**“You know you can tell us anything, mate.”**

**“I know.” It came out awfully choked, and Harry clears his throat before trying again. “I think I might be-” He cuts off again, at a loss for how to say it. Hermione’s hand starts rubbing circles into his shoulder, and he feels his nerves settling. Ron looks at him expectantly, and he knows that he has to say it now.**

**“I’m gay.” Tears rise to his eyes, but he doesn’t let them break over. His eyes burn behind his glasses, and he rubs at them absentmindedly. Hermione’s hand has stilled, and Ron’s has dropped off him by the time he regains his composure. Harry looks up, expecting his friends to be aghast, angry, and disgusted. That isn’t so far from what he** **_does_ ** **see when he looks at Ron. He feels his heartbreaking as his best friend stares at him in outrage. When he glances at Hermione though, he only sees calm acceptance and love.**

**He starts wondering when she grew up enough to be this calm, but is suddenly jerked out of it by a door slamming. He pulls his gaze from Hermione, and watches as the door rattles against its holdings for a while. It’s like he is burning. Watching helplessly as his best friend starts slowly hating him. A soft, warm hand on his chin forces him to look away, and towards Hermione.**

**“I’ve suspected for a while, I must admit,” she confesses. Harry looks at her in surprise, and she just nods thoughtfully. “Oh yes, Harry.”**

**“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”**

**“I decided that it was your business, not mine, and that someday, when you were ready, you would let me know.”**

**Harry mulls this over for a second.**

**“As for Ronald, I’m afraid that he had no idea.”**

**“I can see that,” Harry dejectedly scoffs.**

**“Just give him a while, okay? He’ll come around.”**

**“I’m not so sure.” Hermione doesn’t answer, and Harry feels himself falling again.**

**“I have a question, if I may?” Hermione breaks the silence.**

**“I guess so.” Harry feels, and probably sounds, miserable, but he tries to smile for his friend.**

**“Okay. Why now?” When Harry looks puzzled, she elaborates. “Why did you choose now to tell us?”**

**“It just seemed like a good time,” he shrugs sheepishly.**

**“Right after we were talking about Malfoy?”**

**Harry chokes. “Wh- what?”**

**“You heard me, Harry,” she empathised. “I think my suspicions are correct.”**

**“What suspicions?” He struggles, trying to get out of this mess.**

**Sighing, Hermione answers, “I think you like Malfoy.”**

**Harry groans and lets his head fall back onto the bed. He knows that giving no answer is just as condemning as agreeing, but he doesn’t trust himself to speak. A dent in the covers next to him tells him that she has lain down beside him.**

**“Oh Harry. What a mess you’ve created for yourself.”**

**“Oh, I know. You don’t need to point it out,” he defensively grumbles.**

**She rolls over to look at him, and he rolls eyes. “But I don’t think that’s all of it.”**

**“Ugh. How did you know?” He removes his glasses and presses into his eyes. “Fine. We’re dating. Kind of.”**

**“I assumed so. How long?”**

**“Only a little while. But I feel like we’ve been building up to it for years.”**

**“Me too, Harry. Me too.”**

~~~~~~~~

It’s one of the few Hogsmeade weekends of the term, and the sun is shining. Cold air breezes past everyone as we trudge our way to the town, ruffling our hair and clothing. Most people are in small groups, huddling for warmth or chattering about nonsense. Not me. I’m alone, holding my chest for warmth as I follow everyone else. I’m not surprised, not really. Despite my best efforts with Pansy, we just don’t fit like we used to. She would rather be with her Ravenclaw friends, and her new boyfriend, than be seen with me. Blaise is an outright pig, and the people I was friends with have all left. If they started the year, they were gone by the third week. That leaves me by myself.

As I enter Hogsmeade, I glance around. After the war, most of the town was destroyed, burned to the ground. If you didn’t know, however, you would never guess it. Unlike Hogwarts, with its charms and spells to stop the castle caving in, Hogsmeade looks the same. No cracked, burned down, destroyed buildings. No upturned roads, paths, or trees. It’s almost like someone went back in time, and placed the memory into present day.

I drawn out of the depths of my mind by sunlight hitting my face. The warmth and glow of it puts a smile on my face, and I meander over to Honeydukes. Before entering, I steal a glance through the window and happily sigh as I see the shelves of sweets. Wrapping my hand around the brass door knob, I push the door in and step inside the shop.

Rows and rows of candies, chocolates, and confectionary fill the shop. Neat signs and labels are everywhere, telling customers what they are drooling over and how much they need to pay in order to sink their teeth into it. I let myself grin at the image. I pace up one of the aisles, and find myself looking at some chocolate frogs. I hesitantly pick up one of the blue boxes, and then another. _ I haven’t had one in years, and no one has to know about it…  _ As I walk towards the counter, a head of brown, fluffy hair catches my attention. It’s Granger. I rush into another aisle, trying to avoid her after what happened with Weasley yesterday. No such luck.

“Hey, Malfoy?” I hear footsteps come towards me, and I sigh. I turn to face Granger, and nearly groan when I see her expression. It’s one of pity, surprise, sadness, and disgust.

“Make it quick, Granger,” I snap at her. She looks taken aback, and her eyes slip to the side. Wondering if she can get away, probably.  _ Like she wasn’t the one to start it. _

“Malfoy. Ronald informed me of your, little incident, with each other yesterday.” 

“I don’t want to hear about it, Granger.”

“Oh, I think you do. It’s about Harry.” My breath catches at how casually she uses his given name. Like it isn’t something special and sacred.

“I don’t care.”

“Yes you do, Malfoy.” She sighs and shakes her head at me. “I spoke to Harry, and dragged something out of him. Something I think you’ll be delighted to hear.” I quirk an eyebrow, and nonchalantly shrug one shoulder. 

“Still don’t care.”

Fine then. I won’t tell you that he’s gay. Your choice,” Granger shrugs. I laugh out right at her.  _ I know that pretty well, thanks. _

“Ok. Good for him.” I try not to laugh, but I think she sees a glint in my eyes because she narrows her own at me. 

“Oh, and for Merlin’s sake, Malfoy. Be careful with him!” She turns around and leaves Honeydukes. I stare at her retreating form, before walking to the counter to buy my chocolate frogs.


	6. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco plays Quidditch, and Harry keeps asking questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is almost 12 hours late... I got swept up in reality. I’m honestly surprised I’ve finished this chapter kinda on time. Anyway, enjoy! Xx

Snow falls to the ground, coating the grass in a thick layer of white. It’s awful timing, really. It will be a nightmare to play Quidditch with fog and snow flying in my face. Luckily for me though, it promises to be quite an easy match. Ravenclaw vs Slytherin is generally a fun game, but most of the team this year are very young. Even though the majority of Ravenclaw returned to Hogwarts after the war, most of them decided early on that they would rather focus on their studies than on Quidditch. This leaves the team lacking in quite a few areas. 

I run my hand down the smooth, dark handle of my Nimbus 2001. This broom has been my go-to for years, ever since I started playing Seeker. I remember that my father bought it for me, so that I could prove to Harry that I was better than him. Of course, I was wrong. Harry is still a better player than I am, not that I will ever admit that out loud. Especially not to him. 

My head starts to whirl around as if in a whirlpool, getting caught up in the game I’m about to play. I go over everyone in Ravenclaw team, and figure out their strengths and weaknesses. The Chasers, (Stewart Ackerley, Orla Quirke, and Teagan Butler) are all fairly average at Quidditch, and are all in Fifth Year. I know that Ackerely is the most vicious of the three, and that Quirke is very much the opposite. I don’t know much about Butler, however, as she just transferred from Ilvermorny. 

The role of Beaters are filled with Marcus Souza and Kenneth Elmore, both in Sixth Year. The two boys are rumoured to be dating, although I’m not sure I quite believe it. For a start, they always scowl at each other, and sneer at anything the other says. Apparently they were caught beating each other up! There’s no way these two boys could be dating.  _ I’m getting distracted…  _

The Ravenclaw Keeper this year is rather quite surprising. You would never have thought that Lisa Turpin, the quiet, perceivably weak girl would be Keeper. According to the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, Ackerley, she has exceptionally swift instincts, and can block Quaffles really well.  _ We will see…  _

Cho Chang is Seeker. Not much to be said, really. Ravenclaw was short for players, and no one else tried out for the position.  _ Probably too scared to face me or Harry…. _

A sharp knock makes me surface from my thoughts, and I look up just as the handle into the broomshed twists. A head of messy, black hair pushes through the small gap. When Harry glances around the shed and notices me alone at the other end, he steps into the room and the door closes gently after him. Deciding to irritate him, I go back to checking my broom for imperfections. Finding none, I smirk softly to myself. Regardless though, I reach for the polish and start rubbing it on. A shadow crosses into my vision, and I feel a breath ghost the back of my neck.

A hand grasps my shoulder and shakes gently, forcing me to turn away from my broom. Pretending that I’ve only just noticed him, I let a smile play on my lips. He just shakes his head exasperatedly at me. 

“Oh come on, Draco.”

“‘Oh come on’ what?”

He fixes me with a harsh yet loving gaze, and my stomach twists. I raise a questioning eyebrow at him though, and he rolls his eyes. Harry draws me into a quick hug, before holding me at arm's length, taking me in. His eyes fill with an emotion I can’t place, before he slams me against the brick wall. 

I can’t find time to complain about being pushed, because Harry’s lips are suddenly crashing into my own. He has me pinned to the bricks, one of his hands holding my chest firmly, the other stroking harshly through my hair. It’s exhilarating. I start kissing him back, clutching desperately to his back. When I pull him flush against me, he groans into my mouth. I feel a tongue urgently pressing into my lips, and I part them willingly.

Harry’s tongue leaps into my mouth, and he flicks it over every surface. I lose myself in the feel of him penetrating my mouth, and sigh in ecstasy. Cypress wood and amber once again flood my senses, and all I can smell is Harry. Eventually, I bring my own tongue to his, and they start dancing around each other. The friction is incredible, and I start feeling drunk. Drunk on Harry. 

“Oh Merlin, Draco,” he breathes. He pulls away for a second to catch his breath, and I take in his appearance. His silky black hair is disheveled, his forehead starting to sweat. He looks like fire and smoke, ready to consume me. I moan, and try to pull him in even closer. Our chests line up and push into each other. His strong, slim body feels like heaven against me, and I feel all my blood flooding downwards. Craving his touch more and more, I wrap my arms around his waist and drag him in. Our hips are now flush, our tongues and lips still dancing. He rocks forward into me, and I feel his semi-hard cock pressing into my own. He breathes heavily and his head falls back. Crying out at the loss of contact, I attach my mouth to whatever skin I can find.

His neck is warm and soft. Perfect for my lips. I kiss down the column of skin, and sigh as I feel Harry shudder beneath my touch. Reaching the bottom, I swirl my tongue around the base of his neck and collarbones. He rocks his erection into me again, and I groan at the friction. I start kissing back up his throat, and delight in the little mewls he makes. Rough, calloused hands grab at my chin, and I’m dragged back up to his mouth. Refusing to kiss him properly, I suck hard on a spot below his lips. He pulls again, and when I don’t give in, he instead shifts his hand back into my hair. 

I lick a trail to his jawline, and plant my mouth firmly on the bone. I kiss my way down to his chin and back up, leaving a wet path. Harry’s hand tightens in my hair, and he urges me on. I kiss up to his ear, and gently nip at a spot behind it. He shudders beneath my mouth, and becomes impatient. Pulling me back to his lips, one of his hands runs down my chest. He starts pulling at my buttons, trying desperately to discard my Quidditch robes. 

That’s when I remember where we are, what we are doing, and when we are doing it. My erection starts shrinking, and I push Harry away from me. The bricks are suddenly cold against my back, and I push even harder. 

“Harry,” I try. 

“Mmm.” 

“Harry, stop.”

“What?” He says, stupidly.

“Stop.” 

Finally getting the message, Harry takes a couple of paces backwards. His face is flushed and his hair is in shambles, and I want nothing more than to kiss him senseless.  _ No Draco!  _

“We can’t do this. Not here. Not now.”

“Why not?” Harry yearns.

“I’m about to go play Quidditch! We are in the broomshed!” 

He just puffs out a breath before nodding. “I guess you’re right. Sorry, I just.” He pauses, averting his gaze. “I just saw you there, and I couldn’t stop myself.”

“It’s okay, you stupid git. But not right now, okay?” 

Harry nods again. He looks me up and down, his eyes lingering on my robes. I follow his line of sight and notice that they are all crinkled, and the buttons messily undone. Pulling my wand from one of my pockets, I cast a simple charm to set them to rights. Harry stares in amazement.

“How did you do that?!”

“Did you not know that charm existed?”

“Clearly not.” 

I laugh before telling him the incantation and purpose. Because righting your robes after making out in a broomshed, is  _ not  _ the main purpose. 

~~~~~~~

I mount my broom and take off, white cloud swirling around me. The Slytherin team is floating up, spreading out, and charging. The Chasers start hurtling through the air in a small V formation, heading straight towards the Ravenclaw goals. Samantha Adair has the Quaffle, her hair, streaked with snow, flying out behind her. As I’m watching, I notice that Orla Quirke is sneaking up behind her, probably trying to twist her broom around. Adair clearly sees it too, as she rapidly turns and passes the Quaffle to Vaisey, behind her. 

Quirke drops down lower, swoops around to Urquhart, and immediately cuts him off. Urquhart shouts in annoyance, and Quirke flies over to Teagan Butler. Rochelle Jarvis is watching everything unfold with a keen eye, and she nods to Solomon Hayes. The two beaters split apart from each other, and raise their Beater’s bats. Jarvis gets to a Bludger first, and she sends it hurtling towards Quirke. Stewart Ackerley warns him, however, and he narrowly dodges the fatal blow. Pumping his fist in triumph, he doesn’t see Hayes’ Bludger flying in his direction. It hits him square between the shoulders, and he falls to the ground. 

I notice that I’m getting carried away with the game, and snap myself out of it before something bad happens. While there’s no chance of Chang getting to the Snitch before I do, she probably hopes to anyway. I scan my eyes over the pitch, desperately searching for a gold ball soaring through the clouds. Seeing nothing but snow in every direction, I fly down lower, hoping to notice something from below. 

The game is getting intense around me, and before I know it the crowd is silent. Slytherin just scored the first goal. Scowling at the lack of applause, I concentrate harder on finding the Snitch. My eyes rake over everything in sight. Over everything that moves, everything that shines, everything that merely exists. 

And then something catches my eye. Turning my head to get a better look, I realise that what I’ve seen isn’t gold. It’s not flying, nor even a ball. It’s a mess of black hair and a pair of crooked, circular glasses. I stare, shocked out of my wits that I somehow found Harry in the mass of spectators. He notices my gaze and slightly nods his head at me, careful not to disturb Granger next to him. 

I hurriedly turn around and fly in the opposite direction, as far away from Harry as I can get. I don’t need to be distracted right now. Not even by the boy who had me slammed against the wall a little while ago. I swallow and start searching for the Snitch again.

“And that’s ten points to Ravenclaw!” The announcement rings out through the audience and onto the pitch, the crowd cheering. I briefly note Audrey Santana’s groan next to me, before the game picks up again. Realising that I’ve somehow arrived near my team’s goals, I rise higher in the air and peel my eyes for gold. 

Chang is a little to my right, her whole head shifting every couple of seconds to look for the Snitch.  _ Amateur.  _ I wonder if she knows how much time she is wasting by doing that, and not just moving her eyes. Shaking my head at the absurdity of the thought, I fly a little bit further from her.  _ Of course she doesn’t know!  _ I release a sigh, and watch as my breath floats out around my face. The big puff of white slowly dissipates, and I release another. 

That’s when something catches my attention again. This time it isn’t Harry, with his tan skin and square face, but the Snitch. My breath catches immediately, and I dive down. I’m not taking my chances this time. No fake-outs. I’m racing towards the real Snitch, and there is no doubt in the world that Chang has seen me. I couldn’t care less. Soon, my hand will be encircling the ball, and I will have won the game for Slytherin. 

Leaning forward and building up speed, I notice that players are hurrying out of my path, not wanting to be crushed. I find a second to smirk to myself, before realising that Chang is catching up to me, cutting towards me from my left. I lean even further forward, nearly pressed flat against the handle of my broom. The Snitch is practically in front of me, and I stretch out a hand. The golden ball’s wings beat slowly, weighed down by masses of snow. I grin as I pluck it out of the air, leaving Chang looking exasperated behind me. 

I was right in the fact that it would be an easy match. Slytherin won 190 to Ravenclaw’s 40. The call goes up through the audience, and soon everyone is floating back to the ground. The stands are slowly emptying, no one staying to cheer for the winning team. 

“I’m getting quite sick of this, really.” I glance at Jarvis out of the corner of my eye. “No one pays any attention to our wins.”

“Yep. But hey. That’s what we get for being ‘evil, manipulative Slytherins’.” Hayes replies, put out. 

I couldn’t agree with them more, but I know that most of it’s my fault. If I hadn’t been so rude these past years. 

“They probably found some way to cheat,” Kenneth Elmore grumbles.

“Probably,” a disappointed Marcus Souza groans. I scowl at the both of them as I breeze past. I open the door for the broomshed and carefully starting packing away my Nimbus 2001.

~~~~~~~~

The Quidditch changing rooms are far from my idea of luxurious, but they are functional. The scalding hot water sluices over my red skin, and I moan at the feeling. Hot water washes away the dirt and the snow that I’m covered in, and I watch as it drains away. The changing rooms are currently empty, everyone else having gone straight back indoors and choosing to shower in the normal rooms. The water pounds against my back, and I lose myself in the sensation. 

Blinking away the water from my eyes, I reach down and pick up my shampoo. Stopping to smell it as I massage it into my scalp, I notice for the first time that shea butter is one of the strongest scents. My mind drifts to Harry as I wash the rich shampoo out of my hair. I rub it for probably too long, but couldn’t care less as images of Harry flushed from kissing me rise to the forefront of my thoughts. 

I grab my conditioner from the alcove in the wall, and pour some into my cupped hand. This time, I smell it before raking it into my hair. Amber makes its way forward, and I take a deep breath, drawing the scent into my lungs. I close my eyes as I gently lather the ends of my hair in the conditioner. I think of Harry’s neck, warm and supple under my mouth. His skin was smooth and lovely, and I imagine myself kissing my way down all of it… 

Forcing myself away from thoughts of Harry, I make a reach for the first of my body scrubs. Careful not to let any water touch my hair, and I pump some of the lotion into my hands. I step out of the reach of the water, and lather the rough lotion up my body. I scrub at my thighs, my stomach and back, my arms. My hands somehow find each other, and I shudder at the weird feeling of slimy hands colliding. I step back under the water, and let it wash away the body scrub. The scent of vanilla is left lingering in the cubicle.

The second body wash is a thick, nourishing moisturiser, and I squeeze out a handful. I drag my hands over my body once again, breathing in the smell of nutmeg. I picture my hands as Harry’s, and let out a soft moan as goosebumps break out onto my skin. I rub the moisturiser into my skin, before letting the hot water wash it off me. 

Letting my head finally be submerged into the stream, I scrub at my hair again. The conditioner leaves my hair feeling soft and silky, and I revel at the feel of it beneath my hands. My thoughts drift dangerously towards Harry again, and a shiver makes its way down my spine. I think about his lips, red and raw from kissing me. His cheeks, beautifully flushed pink from both the chill and the effort it takes to keep up with my mouth. His hands, calloused and strong. 

The scalding water is still running down my body, and I let my hands drift down to my cock. The hardness I find there surprises me slightly, but I don’t let my thoughts linger on it much. I drum my fingers around the sensitive base, and a groan escapes my mouth. I bring my left hand down too, and I trace soft lines with my fingertips. Already desperate for release, I give up on drawing this out for too long.  _ I haven’t touched myself in so long.  _ ‘So long’ being yesterday, but still. 

I move out of the jet, leaving just my cock under the hot water. Thoughts of Harry fill my mind, and I drag a single finger up the underside of my erection. When I reach the head, I trace a circle around it before retreating back to the base. I repeat this a couple more times, before becoming impatient. I add another finger, and now there are two running up and down. 

My movements become faster, and soon my entire fist is closing around myself. I pump up and down my cock, adding a little twist at the tip each time. The perfect pressure of my hand leave me gasping. My head falls back and hits the tiles behind me. My body slouches and water starts streaming down my body again. The heat is amazing, and I shudder as I open my eyes.

My skin is tinged pink from the water, looking both delicate and strong. My eyes slip to my erection, and I groan loudly. It’s flushed pink from my arousal, the tip a glorious shade of red. I pretend that it’s Harry’s cock for a moment. That I’m the one giving him pleasure, and making him fall apart. I leave that thought behind, and replace it with a better one.

It’s Harry’s hand around my cock. It’s Harry’s hand pumping me up and down, knowing exactly when to twist and how much. It’s Harry squeezing tighter at the base, staving off my impending orgasm a little each time. My eyes close, suddenly heavy. I start mumbling nonsense into the air. “Oh. Oh yes,” I hiss between gritted teeth. “Harry.”

My thoughts turn to Harry doing even better things to my body. It’s no longer his hand, but his mouth. His soft, firm, warm mouth gliding up and down my erection. I imagine him swirling his tongue around the tip, under the foreskin, and licking a stripe down to the base. I imagine his mouth enclosing tightly around my cock, sliding down as far as he can go. His hand pumps whatever he can’t reach, and I release a string of moans and swears. 

“Fuck. Oh fuck yes!” I stammer. “Fuck, Harry.” An intense orgasm sweeps through me, and I arch my back into the water. I spill all over my hand, some cum splattering against the tiles. I stand there, panting, for a long while. Eventually I start cleaning myself up, and get out of the shower.

~~~~~~~~

“Hey Draco!” Harry calls from across the Three Broomsticks. “Over here!” 

I raise my hand to show that I’ve heard, and start crossing the restaurant. It looks just like I remember it. Warm, cozy, extremely busy, and industrial. The stone building is supported by wooden beams, and it’s filled with candles to keep it well lit. Dodging carefully around one of the waiters with a tray full of butterbeer, I make my way over to Harry. 

“Thought you’d never get here!”

“Oh, uh yeah. It took longer than I thought to get clean after Quidditch…” I rub the back of my neck sheepishly, and pray that he doesn’t hear right through that lie.  _ Because it didn’t have to take that long. It could’ve taken ten minutes, but no. You fucked yourself to the image of him. _

“Well I’m glad you’re here now.” He gestures to the booth seat in front of him, and I slide in. “I’ve already decided what I want, but I’ll let you have a while to choose.” I pick up one of the menus from the table and flick it open to a random page. I, too, already know what I want. But I can’t let him know that I checked the menu before arriving. 

“So, how have you been?” It’s a rather awkward attempt at conversation on my behalf. But then again, we never have done much talking. We were always fighting. Or kissing.

“I’ve been quite well, actually. What about you?” I’m glad to see Harry’s no better at this than I am.

“I’ve been good too.” There is a long stretch of weird silence, before he speaks up.

“You played well today.” I raise an eyebrow, contemplating disagreeing with him. “Oh don’t look at me like that, Draco. You did! You were miles in front of Cho.”

“I may have beaten her to the Snitch, but that doesn’t mean I played well.” I bite back the ‘Besides, she didn’t know what she was doing!’ from my sentence.

“Well, I think you played marvellously.” I smile softly at Harry, trying desperately to make me happy. 

“Hey. How are you going with our DADA assignment?” I say.

“Quite good. I finished my part of the essay earlier today, actually.”

“Great! So did I.”

“Now we just have to put them together, and make sure it makes sense,” Harry concludes. I nod at him.

We start talking about school, of all things. Speaking about other classes and assignments, friends (that was more Harry than me, but still), and just general life things. I find myself grinning at him quite frequently, and have the good sense to blush when I realise. 

“Hey, Draco?” 

I glance up, “Hmm?”

Instead of saying anything, Harry reaches for my hand on top of the table. He entwines our fingers, and gently caresses my hand. My breath catches slightly, and I gulp at the feel of him. Even just the slightest touch drives me insane.

“Good evening gentlemen. What can I get for you tonight?” Interrupted by the waitress. Perfect. 

“I’ll have the Smoked Turkey Leg, thanks,” Harry informs the girl.

“And I’ll have the Cornish Pasties with Garden Salad,” I say as I pull my hand hurriedly from his. He fixes me with a ‘look’ as he hands our menus to the waitress. 

“We’ll both have butterbeers too, thanks.” The waitress nods at us as she takes the order, before walking off to another table. 

As soon as she’s out of range, Harry picks up his wand and casts a Silencing Charm around us. He quirks an eyebrow at my confused expression, and sighs when I don’t understand. “Why did you remove your hand?”

I feel a blush spread up my neck, and I shake my head. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just, unusual? I’m not normally seen holding Harry Potter’s hand at restaurants.” 

I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs. Deciding that I don’t want to upset him so early into the night, I once again lace our fingers together.

Harry flicks his eyes back to mine, and smiles when he sees my face. We continue talking about nonsense, this time less awkward. 

“I’m quite glad it's not a Hogsmeade weekend. No one to shoot us questioning looks.” I say a little later.

“Hah. Me too. The people in the village don’t really care that much about me. They respect my privacy. If other students were here, we’d probably be killed three times over by now!” I laugh at the honesty of that, just as the waitress comes back to us.

She places our two plates in front of us, as well as our mugs if butterbeer. I thank her, before placing my serviet in my lap and starting to eat. Harry once again looks at me surprised, and I realise that he hasn’t done the same. I pick up his own serviet, and pass it to him, telling him to put it on his thighs. When he asks why, I just shrug.

“That’s just what you’re meant to do.”

An hour and a bit later, and we are leaving the Three Broomsticks. Snow has long stopped falling, and the ground is now covered in weird mix between dirt, snow, and ice. The winding path back to the castle has, thankfully, been cleared of snow. Harry has once again surrounded us in heating charms, just like that time we were locked out of the Common Room. This leaves us warm, well fed, and content. We walk in comfortable silence, enjoying the slight breeze and the lights of Hogwarts in front of us. 

“Hey, Draco? Can I ask you something?”

“Again?” I laugh.

“Yes, again.” My laughter dies on my tongue at his serious tone. I nod. “When will we tell the others?”

“Who are ‘the others’ and tell them what?” I know the answer to both those questions, but I don’t want to admit it.

“Well, we both like each other a lot. And I usually tell ‘Mione and Ron everything. It’s been challenging keeping something like this from them.”

I scoff. “You’ve already told Granger. Don’t look at me like that! She told me to, to, never mind.” I pause.

“Ok, I have. But I haven’t told Ron! And surely you’ve told someone too.”

“Who do I have to tell?” 

Harry stops me with a hand on my shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I have no one to tell about us.”

“What about Zabini, or Parkinson?” My silence gives him all the answer he needs. “Really? Oh I’m so sorry Draco.” My stomach flips when he says my name like that, sympathy filling his voice. I go stiff and silent, looking anywhere but Harry next to me. He clearly doesn’t like that, and spins me around to face away from Hogwarts, and towards him.

His hands slip down to my waist, and he starts rubbing circles into my skin. We stand in silence for a couple of minutes, just looking into each other’s eyes. Eventually, his hands move up from my hips, and settle on my lower back. I arch into the touch, and Harry pulls me closer. His lips meet mine once again. Instead of needy, fast, and hot kisses, this one is soft, gentle, and comforting. Somehow it feels more intimate. 

“You never answered my question, you know.” He says into my lips. I hum in agreement and pull him back to me. “Seriously Draco, I need an answer.” He disentangles himself from me and takes a step back. 

“I know…” The truth of it is, I don’t know when. 

“It doesn’t have to be immediately. We can wait a while. I just don’t want to keep it secret forever.” 

“Give me a month, okay? Then we can tell everyone.”


	7. Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry prepare for the Halloween Party. McGonagall and Bones are both annoying and thoughtful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love on this story! It is much appreciated. Xx

Time starts to fly at Hogwarts. The routine of lessons, studying, tutoring, Quidditch, and meeting with Harry in secret, has become familiar, and ordinary. The weeks start to tick past like seconds on a muggle clock, and I start to feel insignificant. Two weeks ago, I told Harry that I’d be willing to reveal our secret in a month, but I’m dreading the day. 

The Halloween Party is in two days, and the other House Representatives and I are sitting in the Great Hall as usual, running over our plans one last time. Bones and Goldstein are sitting opposite Harry and I, engaged in yet another argument. 

“I’m telling you Susan! We can’t put that there!” Goldstein is yelling. Having lost the train of conversation a little while ago, I have no idea what they are screaming over.

“Yes, it absolutely can! And it will!”

I turn to Harry when I feel a gentle touch on the side of my thigh. He looks annoyed with this arguing, and I can’t help but smile as I agree with him. 

“Oh shut up,” I cut in, a carefully bored and snarky tone to my voice.

The two Representatives turn their attention to me, and when they see my expression they both fall silent.

“Good. Bones, how about whatever-it-is-your-arguing-over goes there,” I point to an empty spot of wall, “and Goldstein, your thing goes over there,” I move my hand to the other side of the room. Harry rushes to agree with me, and jots down the idea. 

Bones scans over the parchment once more, and nods her head, seemingly happy. She passes it to Goldstein, who smiles to himself. When it’s then passed to me, I’m taken aback by how prepared we are to set this party up. Harry has gone over everything Bones and I have written, combined them, and then added more information. I lower a hand of my own to his hand on my thigh, and give it a little squeeze. 

“We should notify the Headmistress and the House Elves.” Goldstein’s input is, for once, welcome, and Bones hurries out of the Great Hall. As the door slams behind her, I feel Harry remove his hand from my thigh and stand up. The cold air suddenly against my leg feels weird, and I rub at it subconsciously. Harry picks up the parchment from where I left it on the table, and walks over to the front of the hall.

He pulls his wand out of his robes, and searches the list for something. Satisfied, he gazes straight ahead and moves his lips silently. From the end of his wand, a line of royal blue shoots out. The blue moves away from Harry and towards the spot he is looking at, and as I watch, it slowly shifts. The sparkling line shapes itself into something, and Harry cheers, for the line has morphed itself into a sofa.

Nothing but shocked silence comes from Goldstein, whose mouth is in serious danger of hitting the floor. I can’t look much better.

Harry pivots around to face us, and takes in our expressions. Sheepish, he rubs a spot at the back of his neck, turning slightly red. I run over to him and feel like smashing my lips to his. Feel like drowning myself in  _ him.  _ I stop myself just short, and regain my composure. Disappointment flickers in Harry’s face for a second, before it cuts back to indifference again. Goldstein has followed me over, and he stands a couple of metres away. 

When I turn my eyes to him, he steps forward and raises his wand. 

“What is that, Potter?” He spits from behind his teeth.

Harry stutters on whatever he was going to say, and decided that shrugging is a better tactic. 

“Well?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “It’s dark magic, isn’t it?!” Harry looks stunned, like he’s just been hexed.

“Of course it’s not dark magic!”

“I. Don’t. Believe you,” he grinds out, pausing on random words to emphasise his sentence.

He jabs his wand forward, and forces Harry to take a step back. I jump forward and stand protectively in front of him.

“What’s wrong with you Goldstein!” I accuse him. “Obviously it isn’t dark magic!” I throw a scowl at him and a smirk at Harry. “Besides, he doesn’t have the  _ skill  _ to perform dark magic.” My snide remark earns a look of longing from Harry, as well as a slap across the back of my head a second later. 

Goldstein stares at us, before taking a step away. His eyes light up, at the same time eager and terrified. He flicks his eyes constantly between us, as if waiting for one of us to strike. I turn to Harry, and see that he’s just as confused as I am. Goldstein is muttering something when I glance back to him, and he jumps at my attention.

“They were right… I can’t believe they were right…” 

“Who was rig-” “Right about wh-” Harry and I ask in unison. Goldstein bumps into the wall behind him, before pivoting on his heel and racing to the huge doors. He comes to a stop just before pulling them open.

“You’re using dark magic! Together!”

~~~~~~~~

Bones calmly pushes the doors into the Great Hall open, and jogs over to Harry and I. She cocks her head to the side, taking us in. I’m lying down on the raised bit of floor resembling a platform, my head in Harry’s lap. Harry is reading a book and subconsciously playing around with my hair. As she had entered the room, I had tried to sit up and put some space between us, but Harry had just pushed me back down. 

Now, as she approaches us steadily, she schools her face back to normal. 

“I heard Anthony screaming. What’s happened?” 

I sigh dramatically, “He thinks Harry used dark magic.”

“No, Malfoy. He thought we  _ both  _ used dark magic. Together.”

Bones watches as I force myself into a sitting position, and as Harry frowns at me. 

“Well, why? What did you do?”

Harry jumps from the platform and once again pulls his wand from his robes.

“Best if I just show you.”

He once again moves his lips, silently speaking an incantation. A stream of sparkling blue rushes forward, and this time takes the shape of a jukebox. Bones gasps, both her hands flying to her face. 

“The Adumbratim Charm!” 

“The what?” Harry asks.

I scoff. “Of course you don’t know of it.” Turning to Bones I add, “I had no idea that it looks like this!”

“Neither did I. But clearly it is.” She shrugs.

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I thought it was purple?” I drown Harry out.

“So did I. But there is nothing else it could be! Besides, other than that, it looks identical.”

“But why is Harry’s blue..?” 

Bones shakes her head before looking at Harry. “The Adumbratim Charm is a spell that draws the outline of whatever it is you’re thinking of. We only know of it through tales of Merlin, and it’s considered Old Magic.” 

“Apparently, if you combine it with dark magic, you can manifest the outline into being.”

“Yes! And apparently the line itself is drawn from the magical core inside whoever cast it.”

Harry looks utterly lost. I smile at him gently, and he shrugs a single shoulder. 

“Honestly, it’s a wonder you can cast it.” Bones thinks out loud. “Could you walk me through it?” 

Blankness covers Harry’s face, and I roll my eyes.

“You’re hopeless aren’t you? She wants you to explain how you cast it.” 

He clearly doesn’t like my explanation, as he sighs and narrows his eyes.

“Yes yes, Draco. I knew that.” He drones.

Bones and Harry start going over everything that may or may not have been involved. They talk about what he’d eaten, what else he’d cast today, how he was feeling both mentally and physically, and pretty much everything else under the sun. I get extremely bored listening to them, and stand up slowly.

I allow myself to stretch, and I feel Harry’s gaze on me. Putting on a show for him, I arch into my back further and lift my arm above my head. Everything exits my mind except making Harry feel things, and I smirk when I hear him gasp. Unfortunately for me, Bones also notices, and her rambling stops. She groans loudly in annoyance before tsking.

“Can’t you boys keep it in your pants for a single second?”

I start and hurriedly snap into my normal posture, and Harry withdraws his gaze. 

“What?” I try.

“Oh come on. I’m not oblivious.”

“I don’t understand?”

“I think you do.” Bones fixes me with a ‘look’ before smiling. “Come on boys. I won’t tell anyone. Just keep it to a minimum with me, yeah?” I nod at her, dumbfounded. 

“Ok then. Secret’s out, might as well.” Harry walks closer to me and wraps his arms around my waist. One hand goes up into my hair and he suddenly pulls our bodies flush. I gaze into his eyes, a flash of vivid green, before closing my own. Our lips align and slowly press into each other. There’s no tongue. No rushed kisses. Not much passion. Instead, it’s soft. Welcoming. Teasing. I lose myself in the gentle push and pull of Harry’s mouth on mine.

“What did I say about keeping it to a minimum!” Bones scolds. Harry pulls away after planting a chaste kiss on my forehead.

“Sorry,” He says, shrugging.

“You really won’t tell anyone?” I ask.

“Course not! It’s your business, not mine. But you need to learn to conceal it better next time. No use keeping it secret if someone can tell with a glance.” 

~~~~~~~~

Harry and I lock eyes from across the Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom, green eyes filled with both boredom, and longing. His emerald eyes have often had longing written somewhere within recently, like they do when he is hunting the Snitch. The thought terrifies me, but I can’t let that show. I watch as he blinks slowly, staring at me from between his short lashes. The light momentarily shifts as someone moves their head, and light bounces off his circular glasses. Suppressing a grin, I force myself to look away from his gaze.  _ Even if I don’t want to. _

Our assignment is due next week, and we have very nearly completed it. I originally scheduled to meet with Harry tomorrow, but something tells me that might not work out. Tonight is the Halloween Party, and we have to set it up and be there all night. My head grows faint thinking about the lack of sleep I’m going to get.  _ We will probably have to meet up on Tuesday… _

“Mr. Malfoy. Can you tell me how the Inferi attack their victims?” Professor Falco asks while whisking her red hair over a shoulder.

I sputter, having been thinking about Harry. I dig through my memory, trying to come up with something resembling an answer. I find nothing. “I don’t know, Miss.”

“That’s what I thought,” she tsks. “Please pay more attention in the future, Mr. Malfoy.” I nod my head and bend down to start taking notes again. Professor Falco explains everything about Inferius in excruciating detail, leaving nothing out of her lecture. She rambles on, occasionally using her wand to draw something onto the blackboard. 

Halfway through the period, I feel a cold, rough hand poke my back. Whipping my head around, I fix a glare onto my face, suspecting Granger. Therefore, I’m surprised to see Weasley instead. I scrunch my face up and roll my eyes at him before turning around in my seat. The poke comes again, and I huff out a breath. 

“What is it?” I demand in a whisper.

“It’s ‘bout Harry.”

“What about your precious  _ Saviour,” _ I drawl.

Weasley narrows his eyebrows, “It’s about tonight. I know you both have to be out late, so can you look after him?”

“Look after him? I’m not his nanny!” Thinking that’s too defensive I add, “Isn’t that your job anyway?”

“Hey! And yes, look after him. Make sure he doesn’t fall down some stairs or something.”

“Why me? He’d rather kill me than let me with ten metres of him!”

“That’s not true. You work perfectly well together in class.”

“Yeah, because we  _ have to,  _ Weasley.”

“That may be true, but I don’t think you hate each other any more.” The back of my neck burns and flushes pink. I briefly wonder if Harry has told him too, before realising how batshit stupid that would be of him. 

“That doesn’t mean we particularly  _ like  _ each other though.”

He looks exasperated with me, and I feel a shock of triumph run through me. 

“Never mind, forget I asked.” He looks pointedly down to his notes, picks up his quill, and starts scratching away once more. 

~~~~~~~~

Light dances through the near-empty Great Hall, and everyone inside glances to the ceiling. Instead of its normal charms, the stone has instead been charmed to reflect the ceiling of a party. Coloured lights flash through the room, and the candles that have been lit mimic them. Everyone’s faces are bright with the lights, and a miniature cheer of success rises from a group of students standing on the platform at the front of the hall.

As the ceiling shifts back to normal, the House Elves and House Representatives get back to work as well. Setting up for the party is a lot more work than I had anticipated, and I wipe the back of my hand across my flushed forehead. Bones and Goldstein are outside by the lake, stringing up lights and moving tables out onto the grass. Harry and I, however, are stuck being ordered around by Headmistress McGonagall. She wants everything just perfect, and is constantly questioning our arrangement of things.

“Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy?” I groan inwardly as I turn to face the Headmistress.

“Yes?” I ask, a tad of irritation mixed in with curiosity.

“Do you think you and Mr. Potter could help me with something outside? In the corridor?”

“Of course. Let me go get him.” 

I happily place the heavy jukebox back onto the ground, and walk calmly over to where Harry is trying to desperately charm his pumpkin juice fountain lighter.

“Honestly, Potter.” I scoff, moving my wand around to perform the ridiculously easy charm for him. He shoots me a grateful look before lifting it to chest level and carrying it over to the corner. He places it down carefully and twists it a little bit. When he straightens up, he raises his wand once again. Cutting him off, I cast the charm to return it to its usual weight. 

“I could’ve done that, you know,” he murmurs.

“Sure you could’ve,” I mock. “Anyway, McGonagall wants to see us in the corridor.”

He raises an eyebrow at me, and I shrug my shoulders in response. 

I pivot on my foot and start walking back the way I came. I pass House Elves stringing lights up, setting out food and drink, and moving furniture around. A couple of students throughout the Years have volunteered to help, and they are tasked with easier chores like sweeping the floors. As I’m walking, I hear Harry’s footsteps echo my own, and I feel my chest warm as I overthink the simple action.

I stop to pull the doors towards me, but I’m interrupted by a smirking Harry. He pushes a hand through his messy hair, and opens the door for me. I step through blushing, and smile at him when he closes it behind us. Overwhelmed with the sudden urge to shove the boy against the wall, I find my gaze slipping to his smooth lips. He clearly notices, as a tongue darts out and licks the bottom one teasingly. Not being able to stand not being pressed against him, I lunge forward. 

Harry is pinned against the wall, shock filling his eyes alongside the usual longing. I watch as his pupils dilate, and then smash my mouth against his. Our lips collide hungrily, and I hurry to deepen the kiss. I groan at the familiar feeling of his lips parting beneath mine, exposing his tongue to my own. They rub against each other, quickly developing from a gentle kiss to a passionate one. I lose myself against Harry’s body, and my head spins with the taste of cypress wood, amber, and shea butter.

I rub my hands over his stomach and chest, feeling rippling muscles beneath his conservative robes. I drum my fingers into the soft fabric and moan when he wraps an arm protectively around my waist. His other hand runs up my neck, squeezes gently, and shifts into my pale hair. He carefully tugs at the fine strands, eliciting a gasp from me. I pull away slightly and rest our foreheads, trying to catch my breath. 

“Tired, Malfoy?” Harry snickers against my mouth, breath ghosting over my lips. Not bothering  _ or willing _ to respond the way he wants, I simply force our mouths together again. He groans at the unexpected reaction, and pulls me in flush to his body. The hand on my waist drops slightly, and latches onto my arse. It’s the first time Harry’s done this, and I feel my stomach twist and lurch at the feel. His strong hand squeezes hard, pulling me even closer to him.

At this point, I’m extremely turned on and achingly hard. I briefly wonder if Harry is as well, before deciding ‘fuck it’. I press my cock into him, desperately needing friction. I draw a sharp intake of breath in, and moan in delight at the responding erection I find. Harry rolls his hips experimentally against mine, and I gasp at the sensation. I rock forward to meet his thrust, and Harry murmurs something like “fuck, Draco” under his breath. Our lips stop crashing together for a while, all our focus on our cocks. 

I start getting worn out by the amount of energy it takes to keep Harry pinned to the wall, and take a small step into the corridor. This allows him to stand properly, and he decides to take advantage of it. His hands leave my arse and hair, and make their way to my neck. He wraps them firmly around it and squeezes gently, making sure I’m fine with it. In response, I thrust against him again. This encourages Harry, and he tightens his grip slightly.

I stop moving my hips, just trying to focus on his firm hands and mouth still moving with mine. He seems to agree, and brings all his attention to my neck. However he does remove his lips from mine. That doesn’t mean he stops though. Oh no, he instead plants them on my jaw. His lips suck at the bone softly, and I press into the caress. He swirls his tongue around in a circle, and I practically fall apart beneath his ministrations. Happy with himself, he moves away from my jaw, and nips his teeth down to my throat. He finds a spot that isn’t covered by his hands, and smashes his lips down onto my skin suddenly. I groan unashamedly and drop my head back, exposing my neck more.

“Ahem.”

I leap away from Harry hurriedly, feeling burned and ashamed. Heat rises to my cheeks and my palms start sweating. Harry looks much the same, and his mouth drops open when he sees who it is that interrupted us. I slowly turn around, dreading whoever it is. 

McGonagall. I collapse in shock, and feel strong hands holding me up. The Headmistress looks more amused than anything else, and I want to slowly drown myself in ice water. Unfortunately, it appears I don’t have that option. Instead, I square my shoulders, lift my head, and dare McGonagall to say anything about what she just witnessed.

“I’m glad to see you two are, uh,  _ getting along. _ ” My cheeks must surely be as red as a tomato, but I keep square. She then lowers her voice before adding, “Don’t worry, boys. I won’t tell anyone about this.”

I feel Harry loosen his grip on me a little, and feel him drop his hands from my back and side. “Thank you, Headmistress,” he says.

“Now, I do believe I wanted to talk to you about something.” I nod at her and she continues. “I wanted to ask if you would like to be on refilling duty.” 

I stare blankly. I have no idea what that means, but it doesn’t sound particularly pleasing. 

“Let me explain,” she continues as she sees our confusion. “If you both took this role, you would have to keep checking that the party doesn’t run out on anything. Be it serviettes, plates, cups, food, et cetera.” I twist to question Harry, and he looks unsure. “If you need persuading,” she adds, “it would mean not needing to stand around awkwardly the whole night, spending time to yourselves, and you would receive a special mention at the next assembly.”

I feel Harry eagerly nodding behind me, and copy his movement. Headmistress McGonagall smiles softly down at us, before giving us more specific instructions. She bids us farewell and turns to make an exit back to her office. After a few paces though, she turns to us and says, “Harry, you can find everything at you-know-where.”

~~~~~~~~

The Halloween Party has just started, and people are slowly trickling in. Students mill around, standing near the refreshments, sitting with their friends, or just walking around. It’s too early in the night for anyone to be dancing, and the music is fairly quiet and calm. I’m standing near the back, leaning casually against the wall with a glass of water in my hand. If anyone notices me, they don’t pay me any attention. 

I scan my eyes over the heads of people I can see, struggling to recognise most of them. There is a blonde girl kissing a brunette boy on one of the secluded sofas, her friends watching on in disgust. It becomes obvious that they are playing some form of Truth or Dare, and I roll my eyes at them. They look about Fifth Year, and I think back to what I was doing three years ago. Realising exactly  _ what  _ I had been doing, I force the memories out of my mind. 

There is a group of what looks to be Third Year girls standing around awkwardly. None of them are bothering to do anything other than talk to each other, and they look rather out of place in the big hall. A group of Fourth Year boys sit in a circle a little bit away from the girls, and they appear to be entranced in something a red haired boy is saying. He gesticulates wildly with his hands, throwing them everywhere. It’s really a miracle he hasn’t hit anyone yet.

A group of Seventh Years I know are milling around near the jukebox, playing some weird game I’ve never seen. One of them is standing in the centre of a square, arms raised to shoulder height at his sides. I watch in fascination as another boy grabs onto his wrist, and a girl reaches for his arm. When both arms have another person attached, the boy in the middle starts to spin around. This causes the people holding onto him to spin as well. A girl grips onto the other girls wrist now, and she joins them spinning. Another boy joins, and soon the square is totally lost. I look away, feeling faintly dizzy and confused myself.

A small group of three stand near the pumpkin juice fountain, talking quietly amongst themselves. I try to listen in to the conversation, but am just too far away to pick anything up. A girl with brown hair is speaking to the two boys, scolding them for something if her accusing finger is anything to judge by. One of them has the good sense to lower his head, the other shakes his head at her. The boy who dropped his head lifts it again, and pushes some of his red hair out of his eyes. He turns to the other boy, and starts scolding him too.  _ I wish I could hear…  _ I watch as the other boy turns and walks away from his friends, black hair glinting in the flashing lights. 

And then I realise.  _ Harry…  _ I stumble forward and off the wall, making my way swiftly to him. I catch up with him when he nears the refreshments table, and watch as he picks up a small pastry and bites into it. Harry then turns around and nearly knocks into me. He stops fast when notices me, and stares for a second. 

Then he takes a step towards me and murmurs in my ear, “I think the plates could be restocked a bit…” He grabs my arm and pulls me out of the Great Hall and into the corridor. 

A couple of people are lingering around outside, either walking back and forth between the lake and the Great Hall, or content to be out of the crowds. Groups turn to stare at us as we pass, confused as to why and where we are going. Harry just ignores them, keeping his head high and confident. I try to do the same, but I feel like I’m being scrutinised. Our footsteps are quiet on the stone compared to the chatter filling the castle, and we walk quickly.

Harry leads me up staircases, through corridors and doorways, until we get to a seemingly normal corridor. He forces me to a halt, before pacing back and forth in front of the wall. Every so often, he glances up at the wall, expecting something to happen. When a small door finally makes itself known in the wall, Harry beams at me and pulls me in. Then I realise where we are. The Room of Requirement. 

I’m flooded with memories throughout my Fifth Year. Professor Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad. Harry’s ‘club’ that used this special room. I’m drowning in the emotions and actions of this year for the second time tonight. Harry’s hand pressing firmly into the small of my back pulls me to the surface, and I flash him a grateful smile. Even though I haven’t told him what I was thinking, he clearly knows by the look in his eyes. The usual glimmer and longing have been instead replaced with dull shining and something else I can’t place.

I step further into the room, and take in the appearance. The last time I saw it was when the Inquisitorial Squad busted a hole into the wall of some dueling room. Now, however, it is completely different. The floor is carpeted purple, the walls a crisp near-white. It is filled with cupboards and shelves, all brimming with party supplies we might need. I run my eyes over the endless fancy plates, glasses, and cutlery, all meticulously arranged. I turn my gaze to a shelf filled with books and magazines, a shelf with tablecloths and serviettes, and another covered in miscellaneous objects.

Harry walks over to a dark cabinet and pulls the door towards him. I see stacks of the same plates we are using for the Halloween Party, and watch as he takes them out and sets them on top of the cabinet. He turns back to look at me for a second, before slowly making his way to the other side of the room. I follow him through the shelves, cupboards, and tables laden with belongings. His black hair is a smudge of darkness in the light-coloured room, his skin shining like a beacon.

He pivots back to look at me, and I note his parted lips and slightly pinked cheeks. There is a purple curtain behind, sectioning of a space away from everything else. It’s obvious Harry asked the room for it, as he found his way there easily. Now, however, he looks unsure of himself. I walk up to him, and slide my arms around his waist. I rest my head against his, and breathe in the scent of him.

“Draco…” he murmurs. 

“Mmm,” I respond.

He doesn’t say anything though, just forces me to meet his eyes.  _ He looks perfect.  _ Harry draws open the curtain and pulls me in after him. Behind the curtain, it is a totally different feel from the other room. Instead of purples and whites, it’s jewel colours and grays. The carpet is now dark floorboards, the walls a gorgeous plum. He steps aside and I notice a bed and matching arm chairs, all in lapis. I feel weak in the knees, and I sink into one of the plush chairs. 

“Harry…” I start. “This is beautiful.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“What if the others miss us?”

“We won’t be long. Besides, we are on duty.” He smirks.

“I plan on taking my time thanks.  _ Won’t be long,” _ I mock.

Harry grins and hauls me to my feet again. He pulls me in and kisses me deep. 

Our lips dance and fight at the same time, our tongues both our selected melody and weapon. They slide over each other, causing us to feel weak. I groan as Harry press into me, his hips inline with mine. They snap together, half-hard cocks desperate for friction. I feel my blood rush south as he gently sucks at my bottom lip and grazes his teeth over it. Harry walks us both back, nearing the comfortable-looking bed. He pulls away for breath, eyes meeting mine. His pupils are blown and hungry, and I see mine in the reflection. 

He pushes me back and I fall gently onto the thick covers of the duvet. I shoot him an afronted look before sliding up the mattress so I’m leaning on the pillow. Harry crawls towards me, eyes set ablaze with desire and longing. He kneels above me, and our mouths crash together again. He rests himself onto me, and his length presses into my body. Our cocks align once more, and he grinds into me. I thrust up to meet him, and we both reduced to groaning messes. I run my hands up and down his back, wishing that his robes were somewhere more convenient. Namely, off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued... 😏


	8. Jewel Tones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut. Weasley and Granger are annoying in their own ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. This is mostly smut. Little bit of plot at the end. Enjoy. Xx
> 
> PS: My tumblr is “devilrising” if you want to see exclusive fics. I post Drarry OneShots on there weekly!

_ I run my hands up and down his back, wishing that his robes were somewhere more convenient. Namely, off.  _

Rushing to fulfill my urgent desire, I quickly unclasp the buttons down the front of Harry’s robes. It’s quite a challenging task, with my eyes closed firmly in pleasure, and my mouth occupied with his. Harry shifts on top of me, and our cocks meet again. Tearing my mouth away from his in order to concentrate, I make swift work of the buttons. Impatient, I push the black fabric off the top of his shoulders, and watch as Harry helps them fall to the bed.

His white school shirt is revealed, and I groan at the tight fit. The shirt emphasises his muscles in just the right places, and I realise why we are forced to wear robes during school hours.  _ Don’t want anyone else trying to fuck him…  _ Harry clamps his mouth back onto mine, and rocks his hips against my own. We build up a rhythm and the room fills with the sounds of our gasps and moans.

Harry decides that he wants me out of my robes too, and sits up. He makes sure to keep our crotches firmly aligned, and our mouths still entangled. He runs his hands down my chest, feeling for each button. Casually slipping them out of their holds, Harry pulls open my robes and drags me back into a sitting position. Thinking he might require my help, I move to shrug them off. Harry stops me immediately though.

“Wanna do it myself,” he murmurs.

His eyes bore holes into me and I feel utterly exposed beneath his gaze. His hands rise to my shoulders and gently push my robes off them. He freezes when my crisp, black shirt comes into view, before groaning outright and attacking my mouth again. Parting my lips with his insistent tongue, I’m pushed back onto the pillow. Before Harry can press our bodies tight again, I drag my knees up and wrap my shins around his waist. I pull our hips flush once more and drag my erection against his. 

Suddenly unable to take anymore, Harry starts kissing down my neck. He sucks hard at my skin, sure to leave bruises, and nips me with his front teeth. The gentle scrape on my neck reminds me who I’m with, and I can’t help but gasp at the sensation. Sparks fly through my stomach and down to my cock, and I groan. 

Harry kisses a trail down to my collar, red lips against my black shirt. His hands follow suit, before ripping my dress shirt open. If I had any time to spare, I would’ve complained about the ruined shirt. Or put some thought behind the look in his eyes as he stares at my chest. As it is, I am quickly distracted by his lips kissing down my body. His hands splay themselves across my chest and latch on to some strands of my fine, blond chest hair. They twist and pull at the hair, each time making my breath come out in a moan. 

“Like that do you?” Harry says, voice breathy, as he pulls particularly hard. 

“Y-uh-yes, yesss,” I stutter. 

He trails kisses down my chest further, and licks a stripe between my nipples. My legs are forced to rise to his back, no longer long enough to stay clasped at waist. A shiver rips through me from his tongue, and I groan. Harry makes a delighted sound, and kisses across to my right nipple. He swirls his tongue slowly around it, teasing me. Then, without warning, he suckles the whole thing into his mouth.

He sucks hard, punishing even, and flicks the nipple with his tongue. I arch my back off the pillow, trying to get more of his mouth on me. Harry likes my reaction, and he starts rolling the skin between his teeth. His gentle graze drives me crazy, and just when I think I can’t take it anymore, he lifts off. He catches my disappointment, and quickly starts playing with it with his hand. Then he starts kissing and licking his way to my left nipple.

He repeats his actions on this one, and I become a whimpering mess beneath his strong tongue and firm hands. When he pauses to look at me, his eyes are glazed over and shiny, his lips parted and deliciously red. Not being able to resist the urge, he licks a line down the middle of my chest once more, before rushing to kiss my mouth. His tongue slips between my lips immediately, and rubs all through my mouth.

I gasp into the heated kiss, and Harry groans approval. He grabs onto what he can reach of my black shirt and hauls me into a sitting position. He wraps his legs around my waist as mine leave his back, and pushes my shirt off. He picks it up and throws it off the bed, landing somewhere behind him. His lips meet mine again, but now his hands roam the bare of my back. He drums his fingers into the lean muscle he finds, and digs his nails into my skin. 

He scratches up and down my back, and I’m now totally supported by the body in front of me. A sharp pain draws my attention back to my lips. Harry’s bit into it, and the slight, rusty tang of blood fills my mouth. I swallow it down, and kiss him back even harder. I run my own hands down his back, and realise that his shirt is still very much on. I feel for the front of the white fabric, and my hands land on Harry’s collarbone. I give it a hard squeeze and slip my fingers down to the first button.

I once again struggle with the buttons, and once again have to stop kissing him to get the damn thing open. I stare at the skin I’ve revealed, and then latch my mouth into it. I suck hard at a spot just below his shoulder, and feel his hands grasp the back of my head. I swirl my tongue around the skin and lift off. It’s already bruising, and I think in delight of the mark that will be there tomorrow. 

“You little fucker…” Harry spits out. The desired loathe fails though, as it comes out in a breathy moan.

“You bet,” I reply. 

I go to lick a line down from his neck to his bellybutton, but a firm hand on my own chest forces me down onto my back again. I scoff at the gesture before surrendering myself to Harry’s mouth and hands. He squirms above me, settles his cock against my aching one, and starts kissing down my chest again. He thrusts his hips on top of mine, and punctuates each rock with a nip on my pale skin. He rolls his erection, firmly grinding into me. 

Lips, tongue, and teeth make their way south, and he licks a line to my bellybutton. He dips his tongue into it, I gasp and shiver, and then he’s moving again. No longer able to keep our cocks aligned, he is forced to shuffle back onto my thighs. I whimper at the loss of contact, and he mirrors the sound. He continues kissing down my body, but pauses when he reaches my navel. He lowers his face to my skin and inhales me. I don’t know what he smells, but whatever it is spurs him on. 

Harry’s hands follow his mouth, and soon they are resting next to his lips. He sucks at my skin, replicating the mark I made on him. His is lower down though, hidden from view, whereas the one I gave him is extremely noticeable on his chest. I push that thought from my mind when he softly bites me, and rubs at the marks with his fingers. Harry raises his face to look at me, before dropping his fingers to my waistband.  _ He is waiting for confirmation… How Gryffindor.  _

I both nod at him and rock my hips towards him, telling Harry to continue. He drops his face down again, and starts kissing his way to the waist of my black trousers. His mouth hits the barrier, and he pokes his tongue out, trying desperately to taste the skin just below the trousers. My belt shines dully in the limited light, and Harry drags out the motion of unbuckling it. When I hear the distant click, telling me that it’s undone, I moan into the air. 

Harry opens up the belt and pulls it fully out of my trousers. I watch in satisfaction as he drops it onto the ground. The resulting clunk sound is amazing. And then he’s back on me. His mouth lays kisses up and down my stomach, while his fingers fiddle with my button and zip. I lay on the pillow panting, feeling slightly self conscious as Harry pulls my trousers down my thighs. 

The bulge in my pants would be quite striking if it was anyone else’s. My cock looks like it’s going to burst through my underwear, that’s how hard I am. Harry strips the trousers off my shins and feet, leaving me lying there in just my pants.  _ Glad I chose the white ones today…  _ The pale cloth leaves no doubt to the size of my erection, the head already slightly wet with my arousal. 

Harry stares at my crotch, taking in the sight of me. His mouth works open and shut for a second, evidently shocked. Why, I don’t know. Sure, I’m big. But I’m not  _ that  _ big. Once Harry’s recovered from his short stupor, he rushes to meet my lips in a searing kiss. His tongue sweeps through my mouth, teeth nipping at my bottom lip occasionally. A shiver runs down my spine when his hand presses just next to my erection, and I arch off the bed, trying to get more friction. He chuckles and moves his hand firmly over my cock. 

Harry presses down with the flat of his hand, and I groan loudly with the pressure. His hand starts moving, and he rubs circles over me. My eyes squeeze shut tighter, and Harry jabs his tongue into my mouth to force me to look at him. His shamrock eyes, protected by his infamous glasses, bore into me, threatening to set my whole body alight. I gasp into his mouth when he digs into my cock, and my core muscles clench harder. My shoulders lift off the pillow for a second, before falling back down. 

Impatient as always, Harry kisses back down my lean body. He lays kisses near the scars on my chest and abdomen, apologising with his mouth, before licking down to my pants. A groan escapes my mouth, and he slips a few fingers past the waistband. He slowly, slowly, edges his way to my hard cock, fingers brushing my sensitive skin. He pulls the elastic away from my hips, and drops his other hand to my skin too. His hands massage their way to me, and he stares into my glazed-over eyes. When he sees how much I need him, written plainly through the silver, he swiftly pulls my pants down and off.

My cock slaps against my stomach, bobbing obscenely. The shiny tip is like a beacon, drawing both our eyes to it. The pale skin of my shaft is reflective in the dull light, veins somehow still clear. Harry surveys my erection, and, liking what he sees, goes to wrap a hand around me. Suddenly aware that he is still in his faded blue jeans whilst I’m naked, I wriggle out of his reach. I’m fixed with a stern glare, but don’t falter beneath his gaze.

“Your jeans, asshole,” I fire.

That receives a laugh from Harry, who gets off me and quickly divests himself of his belt. His fingers find the button, but I slap his hands away and sit up.

“Oh, you wanna do it, do you?” He mocks me. I roll my eyes, and bend over to kiss down his dark hairline to the button. Then, wrapping my fingers around it, I pull it out of the fabric. I meet his eyes when I unzip the jeans, and don’t lower it when I slowly pull them down off his hips. When I hit resistance, I drop my gaze and roll my eyes.  _ He isn’t lifting his hips. Fucker.  _ I pull hard, and mentally cheer when it forces him to move his arse off the mattress. A flash of black underwear comes into view, and I groan when I pull the blue jeans clean off his legs.

A bulge appears and I moan as I take it in.

“Impressed, Malfoy?”

“Hardly, Potter,” I lie.

He scoffs as a smirk takes over my face, and I reach a hand out to touch him through the cotton. He growls, and shoves me back down before I can touch him. A startled sound leaves my mouth, but is quickly drowned out by moans as Harry encloses my cock with his hand. 

He pumps up and down slowly, pulling noncommittal sounds from my throat. I roll my hips and thrust into his fist, wishing desperately for more contact. Harry starts adding a cautious twist at the end of each pull, and I gasp at the sensation.  _ So much better than when I do it…  _ I start falling apart below him, and my hips snap off the bed to meet his hand. More confident now due to my reaction, he twists more firmly. Shivers and sparks fly through my body, so I whimper when he pulls his hand away.

I fix Harry with a disdainful look. He runs his tongue over his lip, tugs at it between his teeth, before swiftly pulling his black pants down. He throws them behind him, but I couldn’t care less about where they land. A pang of disappointment goes through me, as I didn’t get to take those off him, but quickly dissolves when I see his cock. His erection is long and thick, the head a glorious shimmer to match mine. It’s beautiful. 

I drop my gaze to his balls, and raise a hand to touch him. This time, he allows my hand, and moans when I come into contact. His balls are covered in a thin layer of dark hair, and I squeeze the sensitive area gently. He rolls his hips in my hand, begging for me to touch his cock. Willingly obliging, I lift my hand higher and trail one finger from the base to the tip. He shivers on top of me, and I repeat the action, this time with two fingers.

I grip tightly around the head, making a firm circle with my fingers and squeezing. Harry openly moans, and thrusts into the ring I’ve made. I pump a couple of times, each stroke pulling an increasingly needy sound from him. Deciding he doesn’t want to wait any longer, he pushes my hand away and lines himself up with me. He drops his head, mouth meeting mine again, before lowering his legs and hips. Our thighs collide, and with them, our aching cocks. Gasps and groans fill the room, and I’m glad for the privacy we have. The brilliance of the Room of Requirement.

Our hips jerk, and Harry starts rocking into me. He quickly sets a slow pace, kissing me with passion even while moving against me. I whimper into his mouth, his lips and hips both drawing sounds from me. It’s too good not to be loud, and with only him here, I don’t care. I start to thrust into his erection, rubbing my cock over his. They fall next to each other, sliding into place and allowing for more pressure. Precome starts leaking from the head of Harry’s cock, making each thrust slippery and so much better than the previous.

My erection starts to leak too, and he thrusts even harder into me. Our kisses become more heated, both of us now desperate for release. The slide of our cocks is mind melting, and I arch into the touch. My back lifts off the pillow, and my chest hits Harry’s. The firm muscle of his meets my slender chest, and the stark contrast is almost funny. Or rather, it would be, if we weren’t fucking our brains out. 

With the harsh pressure, the wetness, and the sounds coming from Harry, I feel myself rapidly approaching my orgasm. I arch under him again, and he growls. He slams his mouth harder against mine, and his hands rise up to pin my wrists to the bed. I groan with the pleasure/pain and thrust up. He buries his face into my shoulder, sucking hard to stop from shouting. His hips start snapping erratically, and a shudder rips through him. 

“Fuck, Draco,” he cries out. 

He shoots his release all over my cock, still rocking fiercely against him. His orgasm leaves him dazed above me, now gently kissing my shoulder where he had been sucking. 

He seems to notice then that I haven’t come yet, and crawls off of me. I whimper at the loss of contact, but he keeps getting further away from me. I close my eyes and drop my now free hand, rushing to take my cock in my fist. Harry slaps it out of the way and glares at me. He then brings his face next to my erection and nuzzles it. He licks a line around the base, scooping some of his cum into his mouth and humming.  _ So hot…  _

He licks more of it up, before licking a stripe up my cock. Base to tip. He circles the head with his tongue, before closing his lips around it. He sucks gently, using his hand to pump slowly. I groan and thrust into his mouth, but he stops me by pinning my hips to the bed. Opening his eyes to look at me, he starts lowering his mouth onto my cock. In a couple of seconds, I’m surrounded by heat and moisture as far down as Harry can reach. He hums around me, sending sparks through my stomach. 

Taking his hand off my hips, he nods his head at me, and gestures thrusting. I stare at him, and he nods around my cock again. Knowing he is okay with it, wants it even, I rock further into his mouth. He sucks harder, and when I pull out again, he loosens. Then I slam into his mouth, faster and faster. He takes all of it from above me, allowing me to fuck his face lying down. I can’t take the pressure, warmth, and damp for much longer. 

I start rapidly thrusting, swiftly reaching the edge of the cliff. And then I jump off. My orgasm rips through my body, filling me with pleasure. It’s so intense I feel like it won’t ever stop, or that I won’t be able to function properly ever again. I shoot ropes of cum into Harry’s mouth, who greedily swallows it all down. There must be six streams, starting off massive and dwindling down. It’s one of the best orgasms of my life.

He sucks gently, milking me of my release. With my brain still a jumbled mess, Harry climbs back up to my face, and kisses me hard. When his tongue slips into my mouth, I realise he still has some of my cum in his mouth. He pushes it over to me, and I hesitantly swallow it. Finding it okay, I kiss him harder. I run hands down his bare back and through his hair, and he rubs down my stomach. Taking me by surprise, he grabs hold of my sides and flips us around. He’s now pressed into the mattress, and I’m lying on top of him. 

He runs a hand softly down my back, resting at the base of my spine. Another follows, but instead of stopping, it reaches down and cups my arse. I hum to him, before wrapping my arms around him. Reality slowly fades away.

~~~~~~~~

An alarm wakes me up an hour later, and I groan. I’m lying on the lapis bed, face pressed into a pillow.  _ The same pillow I orgasmed against…  _ Memory flooding back to me, I gaze around the room. The jewel tones are just as stunning as they were when I first arrived. There’s only one difference now. Harry isn’t here.

I sit up slowly and rake my hands through my disheveled hair. I realise that I’m no longer sticky or covered in cum and sweat, and silently thank him for using a cleaning spell. I get off the comfortable bed and start searching for my clothes. Finding them all scattered across the room in no semblance of order, I sigh and charm them to look more presentable. I dress quickly, but not before noticing the hickeys trailed over my body. Smiling softly, I carefully hide them from view. 

I cross the room and draw the purple curtain open, light flooding the bedroom from the main chamber. 

“You’re awake!”

I spin around and spot a beaming Harry sitting in an alcove reading a book he found who-knows-where. 

“So it would seem.” I emphasise the statement by stretching with my arms above my head. Harry gets up and paces towards me, arms out. He pulls me into a soft kiss, before stepping back. Then a look crosses his face, and he kisses my forehead too. I smile at him, and he returns the gesture.

“About what just happened…” he starts.

“It was great.”

“Well, yes.” He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s just. It was my first time.”

My eyebrows retreat into my hairline. “No way.”

“Well, with a man.”

“Weaslette?”

“Yeah…”

“Me too.”

“What?!”

“With a man, Harry. I most definitely have  _ not  _ fucked Weaslette.”

“Oh, of course.”

I laugh gently, and he joins in.  _ I’ve never fucked anyone…  _ Then he moves some hair away from my face and tucks it back against my head. He grabs my hand and pulls me to the door. I almost forgot there was another world out there.

Hand on the handle, he stops suddenly. When I cock my head, he kicks himself. Mutters something about plates under his breath, and walks back the way we came. He returns with his arms laden with the plates we came to retrieve. 

“Hey Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“How long have we been here?”

“About two hours, why?”

“Well, the party probably needs more than just a couple plates by now…”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re probably right.”

He passes the plates over to me, and then summons some glasses, cutlery, and serviettes to fly over to himself. I grab the door handle, and push it out into the corridor.

Noise from the party instantly fills my ears, and I sigh.  _ Back to reality.  _ We make our way back through the various corridors and stairways, and arrive at the giant doors for the Great Hall. I push them inward, holding them open for Harry to step through. We close them near-silently, and move over to the various tables to top them up with the supplies.

“I  _ was  _ right.”

Harry just laughs. 

“Hey, mate! Where’ve you been?” Weasley’s voice cuts through the noise. I watch as he approaches us, making to hug Harry. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

“Oh, um. I’ve been uh-” 

Weasley releases him and takes a step back. He starts when he notices me, and mutters a greeting below his breath. Then realising properly that I’m with him, he starts again.

“Wait…”

I glance at Harry, who is going slightly pale.

“Have you two been together this whole time?”

“Uh-”

“Yes.” I confirm Weasley’s question.

“So… what have you been doing?” 

Harry’s mouth is flopping open and closed like a fish, and I roll my eyes at him.

“You haven’t. There’s no way.” Weasley suddenly lurches forward, and grabs my robes. He pulls them away from my skin, dragging my shirt away with it. He takes in the giant love bite I have on my shoulder, and jumps back. He’s gone paler than usual, and stares between Harry and I. 

“Uh. Oh no…” He pauses. “‘Mione said something about you… I thought she was going nuts.” 

I roll my eyes at the expression, snickering to myself. “Did she now?”

“Yeah! Bloody genius, she is.”

“I told her…” Harry inputs.

“But not me!”

“I. I wasn’t sure how you’d react…”

“Bloody horribly is how! You’re with  _ him. _ ” His voice drips in disgust and disdain, and a fierce blush creeps up Harry’s face and neck.

“Yes, I’m with him. Is that an issue?”

“Yes! What about Ginny?!” 

“I already told you. We broke it off ages ago.”

“You didn’t tell me that!”

“Well, when I said I was gay, I thought it was pretty obvious…”

“Of course you did,” Weasley rolls his eyes. “What about Malfoy, huh? When did he break up with whichever bitch he was with?”

“Leave Draco out of this!”

“ _ Draco  _ huh?! First names now!”

“Fucking hell Ron,” Harry scrubs at his face. “Remember when you thought we were friends? You mentioned Draco calling me Harry.”

“When you came out…”

“Yes.”

“How- how long?”

Harry stutters over his words, unable to think.

“A while, Weasley.”

“Yes, I can see that! But how  _ long?! _ ”

“Three weeks?” I ask Harry.

“But it’s been building up for much longer,” he confirms.

Weasley flicks his eyes between us, sighing. “I should’ve realised…”

“Well, yeah. But you know now,” Harry comforts his friend.

Weasley sighs. “That doesn’t mean I approve of Malfoy.” With that last comment, and a scathing glare directed to me, he turns tail and runs. We watch his retreating back in glum silence until he is hidden by the crowd.

“Well shit.”

“You can say that again.”

We lean on each other, holding the other one up.

“Let’s go outside to the lake,” Harry murmurs.

I nod my head and follow him out of the Great Hall, through the corridors, and out to the grass. 

Instead of the flashing lights of the Hall, the lake is lit with dazzling, golden lights. Soft music fills the quiet air, and I quickly find the melody. I drum my fingers to the simple rhythm as we walk towards the tents. Groups of people sit everywhere. Either at the big tables, or in little groups on the grass. I scan the crowd, searching to see if I recognise anyone. A head of bushy hair draws my attention, and I sigh when I realise it’s Granger.

Harry has seen her too, and raises an arm to draw her notice. She sees it,  _ of course she does,  _ and cuts through everyone to get to us. When she arrives, her eyes rake over Harry and I’s faces, before clapping a hand to her mouth. She grabs Harry’s arm, who holds onto my hand, and pulls us both away from the crowd.

“He knows, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah…” Harry says, dejected.

“How the fuck did you know that Granger?”

“Watch your language Malfoy!”

“Sorry, sorry,” I roll my eyes.

“And it was pretty obvious. You both look like you've been dragged along the ground and had your insides clawed out.”

I wince at the sentence, and feel Harry shudder next to me.

“How did he react?”

“Awfully…”

“Oh no. So how much does he know?”

“Everything.”

“How?”

“He, uh-”

“He pulled my clothes out of the way and saw a giant love bite on my shoulder.”

“Draco!” Harry buries his face in his hands.

Grangers tsks and shakes her head at us. “I’m not asking…”

“Good!” We say in unison. I look at Harry and have the sudden urge to kiss him.  _ What the hell.  _ I grab his neck and place a fierce kiss on his lips. Who cares about Granger? She already knows. 

“Ahem.”

“Not sorry,” I shrug.

She rolls her eyes at us. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to know?”

“Oh yeah…”

“Well, we are nearing the end of the month Draco. What do you want to do?”

“I uh. Don’t think I have a choice anymore…”

I nod my chin towards the tents. People are staring at the three of us, hands clapped over mouths and chatter filling the air. I groan and cling to Harry.  _ Everyone knows…  _


	9. Honoured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of that stupid kiss at the Halloween Party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bit short than usual, only about 4,300 words instead of 5,000.  
> Also! Follow me on tumblr for exclusive fics (@devilrising) 🥰

_ I can’t believe I let myself do that.  _ I squeeze my arms around Harry extremely tightly, trying to pretend that this isn’t happening. That I wasn’t just caught kissing Harry. That no one knows still. But I can’t. Not when I can hear the shock and silence, broken by someone shouting. Everyone then starts talking at once. Exclamations of shock, surprise, and disgust. They don’t think I’m worthy of him. 

“Harry. And Malfoy?!”

“What does he think he’s doing?!”

“Did Malfoy  _ kiss  _ him?!”

Granger raises her wand and seals a bubble of silence and darkness around the three of us, blocking out everyone else. A hand snakes its way to the back of my head, pushing me towards the body in front of me. The warmth from Harry’s neck next to my head is comforting, and I lower my head further, trying to get to his shoulder. I feel my world sinking again. Water rising around me, trying to drown me. But Harry is my anchor. 

He presses a kiss to my head. I find it ironic that the action that got us into the mess, is what comforts me the most. I lift my head and meet his eyes, uncertain. He fixes me with a look I can somewhat understand, before kissing me. It’s soft and gentle, not like earlier tonight. I lose myself in his lips, and force myself to pull away. 

“I still want you. Okay?”

_ How did he know…  _ “I know.”

“I saw doubt in your eyes. I thought I should remind you.”

By-way of response, I hug him tightly to my chest. Then I twist in his arms to face Granger.

“Thank you. For the charm,” I say, gesturing to the bubble around us.

“Your very welcome. But boys, you must be more careful.”

“I know,” I state. “It’s my fault we are in this mess.”

“It’s hardly your fault, Draco. I kissed you first.”

“Well, yeah.” I remember the day we first kissed. Lips locking just a couple of metres from where we are currently standing.  _ How ironic.  _ “But you wouldn’t have if I hadn’t pushed my feelings onto you!”

Harry scoffs from behind me. “Please. I’ve liked you for so long Draco. It just took both of us a while to realise it.”

“Great. Now you’ve settled that, can I dismantle this charm?” Granger cuts in, sick of listening to us already. 

“Sure.” Harry untangles his arms from around me and puts some distance between us. “Don’t want more looks, do we?” He answers when I cock my head. Nodding slightly, I take a step away as well. 

“Do you want to do this?” I ask.

“Of course.” He instantly saw through the top layer of my question. He knew that I didn’t just mean walking out into the crowd. But also staying with me, regardless of everyone else’s opinions. 

Granger raises her wand again, and unravels the bubble. People have gathered all the way around us. We are instantly rushed. I can’t see anything but strangers from younger Years. Everyone seems desperate to get to me, to pull me away from Harry. I feel my anchor slipping away, Harry being separated from me in the crowd. I start to panic, hands all over me but none of them belonging to the person I want. A punch collides with my ribs, and pain blossoms up my side. Nails scratch the skin they can reach beyond my robes. My arms start stinging and I feel blood dripping down them to my wrists, and onto the ground.

Someone clears their throat, commanding silence. People freeze where they are, fear taking hold of them. Some keep digging their nails in, causing me pain that no one else can see. I refuse to show any signs, keeping a mask of careful nonchalance on my face. A wand ignites at the front of the cluster, a  _ lumos  _ lighting up the lake more thoroughly. Whispers start spreading through everyone again, as we finally see who it is. 

McGonagall. I don’t know how she keeps popping up out of nowhere, but this time I’m quite thankful. She has a stern look to her face. Disappointment, anger, and disgust all riddling her features. For me though, she spares a look of sympathy. I see the same look directed at somewhere else in the crowd, and I guess that that’s where Harry is. 

“Do I need to inform you all, how disappointing this is?” Everyone shakes their heads. “There was no reason to rush Granger, Potter, or Malfoy. No matter what you witnessed.” Now they nod. “Please, take a step away from the three of them. They have been injured enough.” The other students shift away from me, and Harry comes into view. His lip is busted, blood running down his chin as well as from his nose. He nods at me, before gesturing a little to his left. Granger has a bleeding forehead where someone collided with her, and bruises are already forming on her arms. _ I can’t look much better. _

“Thank you,” McGonagall pauses. “Now, as of this moment, I want all of you to go back to the party and pretend none of this happened. Malfoy, Potter, and Granger, my office.” She thinks for a second, before adding, “everyone involved in the rushing will be serving detention tomorrow evening immediately after dinner.” She nods at everyone, and people start moving away from us and back to the tents. I watch as they resume their seats, retrieve more food and drink, and start dancing again. A couple turn back around to glare at me, and I recognise a few who scratched me. 

A warm presence at my back makes me turn. Harry looks even worse up close. I want to kiss him better, but since that’s what got us in the mess, I decide not to. Instead, I slip my hand into his and give it a gentle squeeze. He smiles at me and begins to talk to Granger, who has just arrived next to us. She uses her wand to remove the pain from the worst of our injuries, and says that Pomfrey should probably heal them properly. My ribs feel like fire, and I tell her we should go to the Hospital Wing now.

“No. As much as I’d like to have myself healed too, it wouldn’t be wise. McGongall might want to see our injuries, and I don’t want to run the risk of botching them.” Granger replies calmly, even though she is more than capable of fixing our wounds. I nod, but fix a frown on my face to show her I disagree. She just sends me a knowing look, and glances down at Harry’s and I’s linked hands. A smug smile tugs at her lips, and I remember that she had guessed at this happening before hand.  _ Imagine being that observant. _ A smile crosses my face at the endearing idiot.

“We should probably be going now. McGonagall wanted us there immediately,” Harry disturbs the comfortable silence before I’d even registered it.

“Of course,” I agree. Our unlikely group starts to make its way back into the castle, away from the party that the Representatives have planned. I sigh thinking about all the effort I put in, the time and energy, and then how badly it’s turned out for me. 

As the three of us pass the Great Hall, I peer in through the door. The students inside of still partying and enjoying themselves. They clearly haven’t heard the news of Harry and I. Shaking my head, I have the sensation of water dripping repeatedly onto my forehead. Harry grips tighter onto my hand, and starts to rub circles into my skin with his thumb. My stomach flips with his casual display of comfort, and my heart aches at the fact that he’s mine. 

Granger draws my attention away from everyone else and back to the corridor I’m walking through. Heads turn and take in our group. Eyes slip to Harry’s hand, holding onto me, and then to mine, accepting his small embrace. People notice Granger standing with us, and shoot her questioning looks. Those she knows, she gives a ‘we’ll talk about this later’ look, and those she doesn’t, she sends a glare to them. We walk through the various corridors and tunnels, up staircases, and towards the Headmistress’ office. 

Harry lets the password ring out in the silence, and I wonder at his strong voice. The grating of the stone turning is deafening, and I clap a hand over my ears. I let him kiss me gently as the stairs rise up. Granger is clearly uncomfortable with us, shuffling her feet and fiddling with her hands. But I lose myself in the slide of our lips and tongues, using Harry to pull me from the depths of my mind. I feel my nerves settle, and pull away from him just as we arrive at the top. 

I step forward first, walking freely into McGonagall's office. The range of books has broadened since the last time I was here, a couple of weeks ago now. I scan over the volumes, curiosity and wariness eating at me as I see a particular title. ‘The Adumbratim Charm and Its Dangers’. I remember Harry’s spell in the Great Hall. The blue, sparkling outline that made the shape of a sofa burns into my mind.  _ Why does McGonagall have a book on it? Does she know?  _

I feel more than hear Harry’s approach, and Granger’s curt footsteps follow his touch on my back. The three of us look expectantly at the Headmistress, and she opens her mouth to start her - presumably long - speech. 

“I think you know why I’ve called you three here, yes?” 

We all nod, and Harry starts to massage my back slowly, hidden from sight. His warm hand feels amazing through my robes. 

“Okay. Well I don’t. Could one of you please explain what the fuss was about, and why you are so battered up?”

I’m taken aback that she doesn’t know what’s happened, and dread fills me at the realisation that I’ll have to tell her. 

“Well, the other students saw, something personal, and they didn’t like it,” Granger starts.

“Hermione put up a bubble charm around us so we could talk freely and without being seen,” Harry nods along.

“When the Charm was taken down, we were rushed because of what the saw,” I finish.

“What did they see?”

“It’s, uh, personal,” Harry tries.

“I would still like to know.”

“I’d rather not say,” Harry rubs at the back of his neck. I press into his hand, giving him grim permission to explain the situation. I hear him take a deep breath, gathering courage. His hand starts rubbing up and down, no longer bothering to hide it. 

“They saw Draco kiss me.” 

The room rings silently, and I marvel at the power carried by his voice for the second time tonight. The Headmistress looks startled, and then a small smile clears her face of worry.

“Is that all?” She asks, voice calm and collected.

“Uh, yes?” I reply.

“They did that,” she gestures to our injuries, “because of a kiss?”

“Well, yes, Headmistress,” Harry says. 

“I think it goes beyond the kiss, Headmistress,” Granger starts. “I think it has more to do with who these boys are. They were on other sides of the war, enemies for seven whole years and as long as they’ve known each other. And then there’s the whole ‘gay’ thing that some people place importance on,” she explains. “I don’t, before you think that. I’m fine with their relationship,” she rushes to say.

“How long?”

“Pardon?”

“How long have they been dating?”

“I don’t know the specifics, you’d have to ask them.”

“Well, boys?” She turns her gaze back to us, and I swallow hard. I have to answer a question at some point, it might as well be an easy one.

“It’s been three weeks.”

“Is that all?”

“Uh, yes.”  _ It feels much more important than that.  _

“I assumed you two had been dating for months, the amount of tension between you this year. That, and the way I found you boys earlier this week...”  _ Oh.  _

“Uh, no.” I pointedly ignore the end of the sentence, pretending not to notice Granger’s quirked eyebrow.

“Hmm. Okay. You three had better go to Pomfrey and get checked out.”

“No punishment?”

“Whatever for, Miss Granger? You three did nothing wrong.”

I breathe a sigh of relief and surprise, and our group turns around to leave. When Granger is out of the door, however, McGonagall stops Harry and I.

“Oh, and boys?”

“Yes, Headmistress,” I say.

“I believe I’ve won a bet against Professor Slughorn.”

“Come again?”

“He bet me ten galleons that you’d start dating because you had to tutor Mr. Potter. I disagreed with him, and said it wouldn’t take that long at all.” A dull silence fills the air. “It appears I was correct.”

“Yes, you were,” I say, bewildered.

“Oh, and Mr. Malfoy?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t actually have to tutor him if you don’t want.”

“Oh, okay.”

“That’s all.” The Headmistress waves a hand at us and we take our exit. 

~~~~~~~~

“Can you believe that?” I ask Harry later, when we are back in the Great Hall.

“Which one? That they thought we’d start dating? Or that they placed bets?”

“Both,” the music pumps loudly over our conversation, muffling it from curious ears. 

“I guess we did have a lot of, unresolved, tension at the beginning of the year.”

“I guess so.”

“If you think about it, this happened quite quickly,” Harry gestures between us vaguely.

“It did, didn’t it?”

“It was kind of inevitable really.”

“Ok. You can shut up now. I get it.”

Harry laughs and a blush snakes its way up my neck. 

“I want to dance.”

“What?”

“I want to dance.”

“Off you go then,” Harry jerks his head to the dance floor.

“With you.” His eyes meet mine, emerald flickering in the multitude of lights.

“You sure? People would stare.”

“People are always going to stare. At you. At me. At both of us together. What’s the point?”

“True. Ok then!” He grabs my wrist and pulls me close to him, before hauling me to the dance floor. 

People rush to move out of our way, heads predictably turning. But I’m only looking at him. His glasses reflect the lights bouncing off my face, and I can see myself clearly on the glass. My hair is glowing shades of purple and red. Harry starts to move to the pump of music. It’s a new Weird Sisters song, upbeat and with a fast, yet easy, rhythm. Harry’s movements are small to begin with, and he stares into my eyes, waiting for me to move too. So I do. I start to nod my head softly, tap my foot on the hard, stone floor. He smiles at me, his grin brightening up his face more so than the rainbow lights flashing around. 

My stomach leaps at the sight of him, and I start to dance more confidently. My hips start to sway, and my arms move around awkwardly.  _ I’ve never been good at this type of dancing.  _ Harry’s lips are slightly parted, and I really want to kiss him again. But I don’t want a repeat of what happened outside. After all, Madam Pomfrey just healed our injuries. I had a broken rib, like I suspected. She had wanted me to stay overnight, but I argued and eventually got my way. Harry has to make sure I take all my potions like a ‘good boy’. I smirk at the memory. 

The song changes, and suddenly people are flooding back to the dance floor. It’s a song I’ve never heard, but I think it’s by The Hobgoblins. This song is faster, heavier. It encourages dancing even more than the last. Students have milled around us, all in their own bubbles with friends or romantic partners. I see a straight couple dancing close together next to us, and watch as they start kissing. I turn away, and am faced with another couple grinding against each other.  _ If McGonagall were here, she’d have a heart attack.  _ Thankfully, the professors aren’t allowed in here at the moment. Apparently however, there are charms that ban nudity. So, no chance of an orgy breaking out. 

Two girls dancing draw my attention, and I stare as the Weaslette locks lips with Luna. A cheer goes up, and I smile to myself. I don’t mind Luna, and I’m glad she made a move on her. It’s kind of discriminatory that the lesbians and straight couples can do whatever, but as soon as it’s two boys, the world is ending. And then I remember what Granger said. That it’s more about who we are than our genders. While some might still be homophobic, it goes beyond that.  _ It’s never been simple with us.  _

Deciding to throw caution to the wind, I wrap my arms around Harry’s neck and pull him closer. He smiles again and snakes his arms around my waist and back. He draws us flush together, bodies pressed against each other in delicious heat. I rock my hips ever-so-slightly, invisible to anyone watching. Harry leans in next to my ear, brushes some hair out of the way, and murmurs, “Needy already, Draco?” 

I feel my cheeks warm and laugh silently against him. “You wish, Harry.” To punctuate that statement, I tilt my head towards his and lock our lips together. They slide against each other, wet, warm, and lovely. He parts them almost instinctively, and I groan as I slide my tongue into his mouth. Gasps ring out around us, but I couldn’t care less. It’s strange to think that just a few minutes ago I was telling myself not to do the very thing I’m doing right now. But I don’t care. I’d go back to the Hospital Wing happily if I’m battered again, as long as I get to keep kissing him.

It’s the most natural feeling in the world. Our bodies tight, lips pressed, tongues fighting. The music fades away until it’s just us in my mind. The other students disappear, and I lose myself against him. I start to dance freely, hips swaying to the beat, lips punctuating the movements. Harry dances too, and our chests collide as we bump into each other. Neither leave the kiss though. I slip my hands down from his neck and rest them on his chest. I use him to keep me upright, and he uses me kiss his tension away. His heart is drumming under my hands, and I move my lips away from his mouth. I kiss a spot on his jaw, sucking at it gently. 

A hand comes up to my hair and I gasp. I move from his jaw to his neck, and my mouth finds the love bite I left on his shoulder a few hours ago.  _ A few hours ago.  _ The night must be nearly over by now. We’ve fucked, been swarmed by our peers, spoken to McGonagall and danced. It seems to have gone on for ages. I lose myself against Harry, and plant my lips back on his. We stay this way, dancing, kissing, for the rest of the night.

~~~~~~~~

It’s a few days later, and the news of our relationship has travelled around the school. Blaise and Pansy have been the worst to deal with. 

“I thought you said you weren’t gay.”

“Well, I lied.”

“Clearly,” Blaise scowls at me from across our dorm. Before today, he hadn’t bothered talking to me at all. 

“So, the boy was Potter.”

“Yes.”

“You said there was no boy.”

“I said a lot of things, Blaise.”

“I don’t even know what you see in him! He’s awful.”

“Harry isn’t awful. Don’t bring him into this,” I had snapped.

“Harry eh.”

“Yes.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“A month yesterday.”

“Have you fucked?” 

A blush heated my cheeks. “That’s none of your business.”

“You have, haven’t you?! You lost your virginity to the Boy Who Lived.” Blaise gasped at me. “Does he know?”

I remained silent, a scowl fixed to my face.

“He doesn’t, does he?”

“No.”

“When are you going to tell him?”

“Today. Don’t want you beating me to it.”

“Aw. You’re no fun anymore Draco.” I rolled my eyes. “Fine, have it your way.” He drops his act of being relatively nice and rolls over on his bed. He started to read his Transfiguration textbook, ignoring me once again.

A totally different conversation was carried by Pansy. While still vexing, she tried to be polite.

“So, Potter,” She started to say while we were studying for Charms in the library.

“What about him?” I was tired from revising, and having everyone constantly talk about us, it was getting infuriating.

“Your dating him.”

“Well spotted.”

“How long?”

“You’re the third person to ask me that, you know?”

“Well?”

“A month.”

“A month?!”

“Yes.”

“Is he, you know, good?”

“At what?” I thought I knew, but needed to make sure she was implying what I thought she was.

“You know. In bed?”

“Why does everyone want to know?!”

“Because it’s Potter!”

“He’s fine,” I shrugged around the question.

“Oh. Well I guess you don’t have anyone to compare him with, do you?” Pansy changed the topic.

“Uh. I regret telling you that.”

“Have you spoken to Blaise?”

“Yep.”

“What did he say?”

“That he was going to tell Harry before I could.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Neither.” I must have sounded miserable.

“So, when are you going to tell him?”

“Today.”

~~~~~~~~

Footsteps coming up behind me alert me to Harry’s presence. Their heavy fall rings sharply on the stone floor, echo through the corridor. I still as his hands encircle my waist and he rest his head on my shoulder. A kiss on my neck distracts me and I spin around to face him. 

“Hello Draco.”

“Hey Harry,” I place a kiss to his lips. A soft, quick one.

“What are you doing?”

“Actually, I was looking for you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, I have something I need to tell you.” 

He raises an eyebrow, and I walk him over to a stairway hidden in shadow. Away from prying eyes and ears, I kiss him gently. I move my lips for a few seconds, but refuse access to his tongue.  _ Can’t be distracted.  _

“Okay. So people have been asking me a lot of questions about, this.”

“Same here.”

“And, well, Blaise has been rather, intrusive.”

“Okay…?”

“I told him something last year, when we were still friends. He brought it back up today.”

“Spit it out Draco,” Harry laughs.

“I told him I was a virgin.”

Silence.

“Okay… But that’s not true anymore.”

“Harry… That’s the point. It’s not true. As of a few days ago.”

I take a deep breath, preparing for the inevitable shock and disgust at what I’m telling him. Instead, he smiles.

“I don’t see why you’re telling me this, Draco.”

“It’s important! You took my virginity!”

“Yes, it is important. But it’s not a bad thing.” He pauses when he sees my frown. “Is it?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why are you bringing it up?”

“I thought you deserved to know. In case you felt violated.”

“Violated?”

“Yeah. Because I’m not experienced, you might not want to be with me.”

“Oh Draco.” He shudders from laughter against me.

“What?”

“If anything, the opposite is true,” he says, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Pardon?”

“I feel honoured. Not violated.” He raises his eyes to mine.

“Honoured?” I whisper to myself.

“Yeah. You let me do it. Trusted me enough.”

“But I didn’t tell you!”

“I honestly had no idea Draco. You were great.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“I know. But you told me now, and I don’t care.”

“Oh, ok.” Surprise is the only thing I can feel right now. I was sure that he would want to break up with me.

“Break up with you?! As if I’d do that Draco!”

“Huh?” 

“You just said that you thought I’d break up with you!”

“Did I say that out loud?” Colour drains from my face.  _ How embarrassing. _

Harry laughs again, before scooping me up in his arms. He pushes me up against the nearest wall, holding me up with his strong hands. He kisses me hard, tongue darting between my lips before I can stop it.

I groan into his mouth and knock my head back against the wall. His tongue and lips dance together, melting into my own. I moan when he trails his mouth down my neck, sucking at my collarbones. It’s sure to leave a mark, and I remember where we are. 

“Harry,” I sound choked.

“Mmm.”

I swallow a loud gasp as he grazes his teeth over my skin. “We are in a stairwell.”

“A shadowed one,” he murmurs from below me.

“Still.”

“Fine, I can put up some charms.”

He licks a circle into the hollow above my collarbones now, and I sigh in pleasure.

“Harry, no. Class starts soon.”

“Fine.” He stands up straight again and lets me move off the wall. “I guess you’re right.”

“Later okay?” I say, trying to wipe the disappointment off his face.

“When?”

“Well, you haven’t taken me on a date since that first one to Hogsmeade.”

“Haven’t I?” He pales. “Oh no. I haven’t, have I?”

I shake my head, a smile ghosting in my lips.

“Okay. How about the next trip-”

“I don’t particularly want to be stared at in the Three Broomsticks surrounded by students.”

“That’s not what I meant. If you’d let me finish.”

“Sorry.”

“Draco Malfoy. Apologising. When did I get so lucky?”

“Oh shut up, Potter.”

He exhales through his nose in a laugh. “I meant that we would stay here when everyone left. Walk around the lake or something.”

“So elegantly put, Harry.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“I don’t see how sex is involved. That was the whole point after all.”

“You’ll see.” He smirks at me, before ducking back into the corridor. 

I shake my head, happiness blooming through me.  _ We are going on another date.  _


	10. The Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco continue their lives, plus do a little something at the lake 😏

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this chapter is all smut. Aside from that there is a bit of plot at the beginning.  
> Sorry I’ve been away, University got really stressful and I wasn’t doing anything but study. Sooo, you get this a day early! Xx

“Welcome, Abigail,” I call out to the Fourth Year girl as she enters the Potions classroom. 

“Hello, Sir.” She walks over and places her books down on our usual bench. 

“What potion are we working on today?”

“Girding Potion, Sir.”

“Great. And Abigail,” I pause. “Please drop the ‘sir’. I don’t like it.”

“Okay, Malfoy.” I wince at the use of my surname, but ultimately decide not to say anything. 

I tell Abigail to go fetch the ingredients we need from the Potions Cupboard, and she hurries off. I rub my eyes with my fists, tired already.  _ She’s not even been here five minutes!  _ I shrug it off, and swallow a Pepper-Up Potion and a Patience Potion, needing all the help I can get today. These last few weeks of term have been really taxing, with House Representative duties, tutoring, Harry, and normal school and studying. 

Abigail returns from the cupboard, arms laden with supplies we will need today. Her hair swings behind her, and her face is flushed with the effort of carrying it all. I tsk at her, before casting a Feather-Light Charm so she can carry it properly. She exhales her thanks, setting them down and arranging them on the bench. I watch as the Dragonfly Thoraxes are placed next to the Flying Seahorses, and the Doxy Eggs opposite the Fairy Wings. They aren’t in order, and I scowl at her and tell her to fix it.

Abigail starts to work through the method, adding a single set of fairy wings to the cauldron. She uses her wand to set it alight, and chatters to me about her day is the Potion starts turning turquoise. I learn that Fourth Year has to have a meeting with the Headmistress about their behaviour in classes — apparently there is a girl as bad as the Weasley twins were — and their part in beating Harry and I up. She stops talking when she adds the measure of doxy eggs in, and concentrates on getting the heat correct.

As the potion is becoming pink, she starts to toast the dragonfly thoraxes. Abigail gets them down just in time, and hurriedly throws them into the cauldron. I glare at her as the potion splutters, but it starts turning red anyway so I don’t say anything. She picks up her banter again while she waits for it to turn blue, and I instruct her to raise the heat.  _ Get it done quickly so I don’t have to keep talking to you. _ She notices that the liquid has become the perfect colour and adds more of the toasted dragonfly thoraxes, and we watch in silence as it turns silver. I honestly can’t believe she’s made it this far without failing, and I wonder if she really needs to continue with me anymore.

The silver is blinding and beautiful, and she sets the flame hotter still. It turns red again, and she adds three measures of doxy eggs and some more dragonfly thoraxes. I lift the temperature this time, wanting to do something instead of just sitting and staring. Without any stirring required, this potion is quite boring to make, the only interest being the constantly changing colour. The liquid in the cauldron shifts into blue, and Abigail adds three of the flying seahorses, and raises the heat for the last time. I watch in amazement as it turns the perfect shade of green.  _ She did it. _

“Brilliant job, Abigail,” I praise her. “You’ve really improved this term.”

“Thank you, sir. I mean-”

“It’s okay, just try to remember.” I mentally roll my eyes.

“Of course, Malfoy.” 

“Because you successfully got through this Girding Potion, I will pack up for you. You can leave.”

“Oh! Thank you Malfoy!” Abigail starts to pack her belongings into her bag, slipping her textbook and quills away. Then she nods and smiles at me, and walks out of the classroom and into the dungeon corridor. 

I start going through the motions of cleaning up the room. Charming the equipment to float behind me, I cross the room and set everything down near the sink. Tipping out the green contents of the cauldron, I spell sponges to scrub at the metal. Then I manually wash off the cutting boards and throw away the remains of the ingredients. It’s done within ten minutes, and I smile as a charm sweeps the floor in an instant. 

“Draco? You in here?” Harry’s voice calls out, echoing around the stone classroom.

“Yep!” I say, stepping around the desk and coming into view of the doorway. Harry is muddy, sweaty, and gross.  _ Must’ve been training…  _ I watch as his hand raked through his greasy hair, and pace the room to meet him. Harry throws his arms up, clearly expecting a hug from me. Instead, he gets a scowl and a disgusted look. 

“What? I’m not that dirty!”

“Have you looked in a mirror?”

“Well, no…”

I conjure a mirror just to prove my point, and grin as he sees his reflection. His face goes a slight shade of pink barely noticeable through the mud, and I roll my eyes at his surprise. 

With a flick of my wand, the mirror is gone. Harry has also lost some of the mud, smell, and sweat. 

“Much better,” I murmur before stepping into his arms. 

“Impressive.”

“I know.”

Harry chuckles against me, and I succumb to the feel of being held by strong, muscular arms. His calloused hands running up and down my back, pulling me in as close as physically possible. I drop my head to his shoulder, and let out a contented sigh when he mimics the action. 

I lose myself in the sensations. The utter strangeness, yet rightness. Two months ago, I never would’ve thought this would happen - even if I wished it. But standing here, wrapped in Harry’s tight embrace, feels like the most correct my life has ever been. 

“Draco?”

“Mhmm.”

“I came here for a reason you know.”

“Which is…?” I ask, stepping away so he can speak properly. Goosebumps rise on my skin at the sudden lack of his arms around me.

“It’s about our date…”

I quirk an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“Well…”

“You’ve changed your mind, haven’t you?”

“What?! No! Where did you get that idea from?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” I breathe in slowly, calming myself. “What is it then?”

“I want you to wear that navy blue overcoat and the matching scarf.”

“Why?” I narrow my eyes at Harry, suspicious.

“You’ll find out,” he shrugs.

“Fine,” I pause, “as long as you wear that lilac sweater.”

“I hate that sweater.” Harry visibly shudders and I smirk.

“That’s the point.”

“Ugh. Fine.” He grins, eyes dilating, before pulling me to him once more. “You know. We really should work on our DADA assignment.”

“Shit. I’d forgotten.”

“Draco Malfoy. Forgetting assignments. What on earth has happened?” He mocks. 

“You, probably. You and your awful memory.” At least Harry  _ pretends _ to be offended.

~~~~~~~~

Dust flies off the book, spraying the table with brown and yellow. I sigh and pull the next book in front of me. Harry’s reminder has sent me into a panic. Spending most of my time planning the Halloween party, spending time with Harry, tutoring, and trying to keep on top of normal homework, I haven’t done any more work on the Mucus ad Nauseam curse since class. Groaning, I realise just how far behind I am. Harry showed me the beginning and one of the body paragraphs of our essay to give me an idea on what to write, but I’m still struggling. 

Harry writes in a totally different style than I do, and trying to keep the essay flowing is rather challenging. The scratch of my quill against the parchment fills the library again as I write out a sentence. No one else is stupid enough to still be working this late in the night, even the ones preparing for their exams. I roll my shoulders, trying to restore feeling in them. Sighing, I give up entirely and start to pack away my things. I never have been good at essay writing, contrary to popular belief. I usually just bullshit them and fill them with information from higher grades or different subjects. It works quite well. 

But I don’t want to fail this, because it also affects Harry. I don’t want to bullshit it in case the professors notice, because then my paragraphs would be filled with rubbish, while his are actually good. Sighing, I exit the library and walk back to the Common Room. Once I push my way in, I let myself flop onto an armchair and curl up into a ball. No one else is here. That strikes me as weird, but I try to shrug it off quickly. I feel the world start to slip away, blackness pressing into my mind.

~~~~~~~~

“Draco.” A pause. “Draco.” The murmur in my ear is as quiet as a whisper, and the hand on my shoulder is warm and gentle. I ignore it, favouring snuggling further into the armchair. The hand slips from my shoulder to my waist, and calloused hands rub softly at the skin beneath my shirt. “Draco.”

“Harry.” I raise my arms to my face slowly, rubbing at my eyes. I blink tiredly and squint at the mess of black above me. 

“You’re awake.”

“Of course I am.”

Harry scoffs. “That’s why I just found you asleep in the middle of the Common Room.”

I roll my eyes at him, and push myself into a sitting position. Harry looks smug, a smirk playing his lips. I reach up and press a peck to them. He raises an eyebrow, and I shrug. “Wanted to.”

Harry reaches for my hand, and hauls me to my feet. A glance around the room reveals that it’s still empty, but a sliver of sun is peeking through the windows. It must be early morning. “What time is it?” I say, my lips a breath away from Harry’s.

“Just after dawn. Were you here all night?” His voice is questioning and disbelieving.

“Must have been,” I say, trailing a hand down his chest.

“What were you doing to keep you down here?” I feel his eyes linger on my messed hair, my sleepy eyes and wrinkled clothes.

“Studying. For DADA.”

He laughs, a rich sound coming from his mouth. “You didn’t need to Draco.”

“I wanted to.” I furrow my brows, “Wait. What do you mean I didn’t need to?”

“I would’ve done it all happily.”

“Oh please. We would both be failing miserably if you did that.” 

“Hey!” He slaps me playfully on the arm. “That is probably true though…”

I smile at him, taking in his appearance. He is dressed in Quidditch gear, all made up for the day. Well, as made up as he can be.

“Going flying huh?”

“Oh! Yeah I am. Care to join me?” 

His invitation is tempting, but I really have lots of work to get through. “I’m sorry. I’m incredibly busy.”

“We can play a Seeker’s Game or two.” Harry tries. He clearly wants me there.

“Fuck you Harry Potter,” I quip.

“Isn’t it rather the other way around, Draco Malfoy?” 

I gape at him. Heat pushes its way to my cheeks.  _ We’ve not done that yet… _

_ But I’d like to… _

“As if!” I smirk. “You’re the one beneath me.”

“Doesn’t mean your top.” 

I give up. “Fine. I’ll come with you.”

“Yeah you do.”

“Harry!”

“Sorry. I’ll let you get changed. Meet me down at the Pitch.”

With that, he turns on his heel and exits the Common Room. My eyes follow him until he’s out of sight, before making my way to my room.

~~~~~~~~

The air is still fairly cold, but the sunrise is gorgeous. And the light and colours behind Harry as he flies are breathtaking. 

“Took you long enough,” he calls out. He floats down towards me and smiles gently. “Whatcha waitin for?”

“I can’t believe you just spoke like that.”

Harry laughs again,  _ Merlin, _ and I mount my broom. He extends a hand to pull me up next to him, but instead of taking it, I shoot up into the air. 

“Oh so that’s how we’re playing, huh?”

My eyes flicker back down to him, and watch as he lifts up as well. We fly laps around the Pitch, warming up. The air feels heavenly against my skin, and my hair whips wildly around me. Harry’s cheeks have taken on a pink tinge, and his lips are chapped from the wind. I lick my own lips, finding them just as chapped. The earth rushes along under me, and the trees of the forest become deep green blurs.

After about half an hour, we both come to a halt. Harry makes his way to the ground, where he pulls a Snitch out of his robes. Gesturing for me to join him, I float to the ground. He fixes me with a smug look, and I scoff.

“As if you’ll win, Potter.” I spit. 

“Oh yeah, Malfoy? You’re on!”

He throws the Snitch into the air, and we wait about ten seconds. And then I’m pushing off the ground, flying as fast as I can to see the whole Pitch. There is no streak of gold, and I am slightly annoyed at having to wait. 

We fly laps around the sky, each looking our own direction to try to spot a golden blur. I lean tightly over my broom, reducing drag. I sharpen my eyes, scanning for anything resembling the little gold ball.  _ There.  _ I dive for it, zooming through the air. I see Harry meet my side, and I push at him to move. He barges right back, and he start fighting. Trying to get closer to the Snitch, and victory. I reach a hand forward, inches from gold. Harry extends his too, and I suddenly know how I can win. Technically it’s cheating, but there aren’t any rules against it so… 

Harry squawks. A high-pitched sound from the back of his throat as I lace our hands together. He startled and freezes for a split second. The pause is just enough to let me tear ahead, and when I turn around to face him the Snitch is clasped tightly in my fist. Harry looks shocked, and spellbound. His eyes see the ball, but they don’t stop at my hand. I feel them drag over my skin, resting on my pinkened lips. 

“That’s cheating,” he whispers, indignant.

“Maybe… but I won,” I shrug.

Harry flies in front of me, and pulls the Snitch from my grasp. His eyes burn into mine, so green, as he throws it into the air. And then his lips meet mine. The chapped skin feels rough against my mouth, and I delight in the new texture. I kiss back, opening my mouth to him. He pushes his tongue in harshly, and I feel my mind go numb. He rubs it over mine, twisting and fighting me. A hand finds itself in my hair, and he tugs hard. I allow myself to gasp, and bite down onto his bottom lip. Harry moans. And then he’s gone. 

The loss of body heat is instant, and the cold morning air hits me full force. Harry is at the other end of the Pitch now, racing towards the Snitch already. I shake my head, desperately trying to clear my mind. I don’t even bother flying over there, as Harry pumps a hand into the air. I pinch the bridge of my nose, embarrassed that I fell for my own trick. Harry comes back with a shit-eating grin etched onto his face.

“Tired already, Malfoy?”

“Well I  _ did  _ sleep on the sofa.”

“True.” He pauses. “Fancy another?”

“Depends what you mean by ‘another’,” I scowl.  _ If it’s a round, yes. If it’s a kiss, yes. Both at once, no thanks. _

He smirks before letting the Snitch fly into the air. “No harsh feelings, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I reply dejectedly.

Harry then places a peck on my lips before lining himself up next to me. 

“Oh my count.” I nod. “One.” He fixes his emerald eyes on me. “Two.” He turns away, eyes intent. “Three.” We both go racing across the Pitch.

~~~~~~~~

Harry wins three more games. But I win five. I gloat to him as we land, the sunlight glinting off the stands and his glasses. I breathe a happy sigh, and wrap my arm around his waist. I pull his hips next to mine, and they bump together as we walk to the broom shed. Harry presses a kiss to my forehead, and I close my eyes. He pulls away from my grip and starts to pack away his equipment. I stare for a while, eyes lingering. His skin is tinged pink from the wind and exercise, sweat collecting on his forehead. 

His muscles move in his arms, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, as he lifts things out of the way. He must feel my gaze, as he turns back to me smirking. “Like what you see, Draco?”

“Of course.” I don’t even try to deny it, it would be utterly pointless at this point. I clearly have a thing for black hair, glasses, and green eyes. Not Harry. Definitely not. The thought makes me laugh gently, and I turn around to tend my broom properly. 

“Hey Draco?”

“Yeah?”

“That date…”

“What now, Harry?” I ask.

“I didn’t realise that today was another Hogsmeade day.”

“Meaning…?”

“How do you feel about moving it to this afternoon?”

I pause, stunned. That would be - quite nice, actually. “Oh um. Sure.”  _ Elegant as always. _

“Great.” He suddenly looks awkward. And rather endearing. “I’ll see you later then.”

“What time, and where should I meet you?”

“Three. By the lake.”

“Perfect.” I move closer to him, and pull him into me with my hands on his hips. Our foreheads meet and he brings his arms up to my back. My supposed-to-be-hot embrace turns into a hug, and I find myself not caring. I’ve not been hugged by anyone else in ages. I close my eyes, feeling safe in his arms. 

~~~~~~~~

The majority of the students have cleared Hogwarts, leaving it empty. I cross the grounds, wind playing with my hair and sending it flying everywhere. My blue overcoat and matching scarf fill my senses, warm and fuzzy. I pull the fabric tighter to me, and smile. I walk to the lake and spot Harry sitting down, writing in a book. The grass crunches underfoot as I make my way to him. As I get nearer, I realise that he isn’t writing, but is in fact, drawing. 

“I didn’t know you could draw.” I flop to the ground next to him, and he hurriedly slams his sketchbook closed.

“I can’t,” he replies shortly.

I throw my hands up in surrender, and leave the subject alone. Regardless of the fact that the sketch was a very delicate one of a squirrel hopping across a field. “I draw too, you know?” I say as I scoot closer to him.

“Really? What do you draw?”

I smirk before answering. “Not until you tell me what you draw.”

“Oh come on, play nice Draco.”

“That’s boring though.” I screw up my face and flick his shoulder.

Harry sighs gently and absentmindedly runs a hand through my hair. I go to push him away with a retort on my lips, but somehow the signal from my brain gets messed up and I end up pushing into the touch instead. 

“Woodland animals, mainly.” Harry rubs circles into my hair, and I moan contentedly. “Don’t know why, something about them just fascinates me.”

“Would you believe me if I said the same thing?”

At this, he lifts his head from a place he’s just found on my shoulder and stares at me. “Really?”

I stifle a laugh. “Yeah. I prefer birds though, not ground animals. I like sketching them on branches and ignoring the rest of the tree.”

“Of course you do.”

“What’s that meant to mean?!” I quip, although I don’t think it comes across right because Harry smiles.

By way of answering my question, he instead presses a firm yet quick kiss to my lips. I whimper with the want of more, and he gives in to me. This kiss lasts longer, but still leaves me needy. 

“Do you want to know why I brought you out here?”

I hadn’t even thought about that, if I’m being honest with myself. “Sure.”

“Not just to get away from everyone else.”

“No?” I feign surprise. It’s Harry, of course it was something more than that.

“No, otherwise we could’ve just stayed in the castle.”

“Of course.”

“Mmm. We’re out here so I can do this.” 

He lunges for me, grabbing me roughly by the back of my neck. His glasses smash into my face, cold metal pressing against warm skin. His lips attack mine, fighting for my surrender. I gasp and breathe heavily, trying not to drown in him. The hand at my neck tightens, scratching at the delicate skin. The other one finds a path to my chest before pressing down firmly, forcing me onto my back. Grass prickles my wrists, annoying the only skin that’s visible. 

Harry lies down on top of me and runs the hand on my chest up and down. His fingers slip towards the buttons of my coat as his leg pushes between my thighs. He undoes the blue overcoat and starts on the scarf around my neck. The soft fabric falls apart easily, and Harry latches his mouth onto the newly visible skin. I gasp at the wet warmth and arch into him. Teeth meet the tender skin and lightly scrape at my Adam’s apple, just gentle enough to feel nice. The leg between my thighs starts to move, and Harry lowers himself further onto me. Our bodies are flush the whole way down, and I clutch at his back. 

I open my eyes as he moves away, and I send him a questioning look. He never has to answer it, however, as I figure it out pretty quickly. The holly wand in his hand sends sparks flying around us and I recognise the charms instantly.

“Gonna fuck me out here, huh?” I snarl, although the want in my voice drowns the remark out.

“How’d you guess?” He smirks. I roll my eyes and pull him back to me hurriedly. Just before he kisses me though, I answer.

“Maybe it was the silencing charm, the Notice-Me-Not charm, and the warming charm?” I grin as Harry slams his mouth back onto mine.

Our tongues dance once again, and our hands are roaming freely across our bodies. Harry divests me of my coat, followed quickly by my shirt, which is flung behind us somewhere in desperation. He kisses his way down my body, lips caressing every inch of my chest. The scars littering my skin are paid lots of attention, Harry trying to make up for them. I arch into his mouth, moaning freely now that we won’t attract any attention. His lips ghost lightly over them, mouthing at the twisted and garrish skin. My hand tangles itself in his black hair, and I wrap my legs around his waist. His hard cock rubs against my aching one, and we both hiss at the friction. I thrust up to meet him, but he pulls away. “Wanna try to last Draco,” he chuckles.

His tongue dips into my belly button and a shiver works it’s way up my spine. A gasp leaves my lips as he sucks hard at my navel, leaving bruises along my waistband. 

Wanting to pleasure him back, I grab Harry by the side and flip us around. He intakes sharply but then moans as I kiss at his neck. I nip at the spot of skin that makes him weak, and pull the lilac sweater over his head. This causes his hair to muffle a bit more than usual, and I rake my fingers through it. The thick black hair is a mess, and I pull on it harshly. Harry groans and meets my mouth with a scalding kiss. I let go of his head and kiss down his tan body. Without a shirt in underneath the sweater, he must’ve been quite uncomfortable. I give the itchy material a disdainful look and lap at his skin.

I can feel the muscles under his skin move as he arches into me, and I dig my nails in carefully. I lose myself in the feeling of kissing and licking Harry’s chest, and before I know it I’ve reached the waistband of his jeans.  _ Only  _ he  _ can wear those ugly black jeans and still look gorgeous.  _ I suck at the warm skin and move my hands down to fondle him through the heavy fabric. He pushes into my hand and makes a non-committal sound from the back of his throat. Seeing how impatient he’s being, I unclasp his belt and pull it open. The button and fly are next, and then I’m pushing the jeans down his thighs. Harry opens his eyes to look at me, and I moan from his eyes alone. The bright emerald green is fuller than usual, glossed over with lust and desire. Seeing me registered useless, he flips us around again.

Harry’s open jeans catch at my trousers, and I let out an annoyed groan at the restriction. He smirks and starts to undo my sleek, firm-fitting trousers, the stark opposite of what he’s wearing, and kisses down my navel again. He pulls them down to my thighs and once again lowers his hips to mine. Our needy cocks rub through our pants, and I moan beneath him. Harry then pulls away and yanks the trousers fully off my legs. His tongue darts out and he licks his way back to my hips, biting here and there between my thighs. My breath catches when his fingers press into my waist, holding me firmly to the grass.

Green eyes meet mine, and he grins as he places a chaste kiss to the bulge at the front of my underwear. I let out an undignified yelp, and he covers the cloth with his mouth. Intense warmth spreads through my body, and I push into his mouth. Harry breathes through his nose in a silent laugh and rubs his fingers along the waistband. I arch my back as he pulls my pants down slowly. The elastic waist tickles as it reveals more of my skin. Harry groans and hastens to press a firm kiss to the head of cock. He grins at me as he pulls them off down to my thighs, before licking a stripe from the base to the head. 

A shiver rips through my body as he circles under my foreskin with his tongue. My hand finds its way to rest in his hair, and I grip it tightly. Harry smirks before sliding his mouth down. It’s agony, watching him suck down slowly, feeling warmth and pressure encompass me totally. I moan loudly as his hand finds the base of my cock. He moves up and down, timing his hand with his mouth. He has a wicked grin on his face like he loves this, and his whimpers enforce that thought. My eyes slam shut and my mind runs wild. I see us throughout this term. The day we first kissed, only a little way from where we are currently. The Halloween Party, the studying for DADA, the night in the Room Of Requirement. These memories burn into my mind, and I open my eyes again to see Harry smiling. 

His tongue flicks over the head, his mouth and hands still in rhythm. I can feel the edge approaching, and I tighten my grip in his black hair. Instead of sucking harder and faster like I’d hoped, Harry pulls off with an obscene, wet pop. I pout at him and he laughs.

“Can’t have that yet,” he smirks.

“Why not?” I whine back, pulling him up to my mouth again and kissing him.

“I have other plans.” 

I grin and watch as he sits back and discards his jeans. They fly somewhere near my trousers, but I don’t pay it much mind as Harry slithers down me again. This time, however, he goes right past my cock. 

I watch, stunned, as I figure out what he’s doing. He lies between my legs and pushes at my thighs. I open them hesitantly, but clutch a fistful of grass. Harry murmurs something under his breath, and a weird sensation goes through me. It feels like my insides have just been scrubbed. I push it away though as he bends his head down. As if sensing my nerves, he looks back up at me. His eyes smile as he kisses my navel, before ducking down again. His hair tickles my legs, and I prepare myself for what’s about to happen. Harry licks a stripe over me. Over my hole. I gasp and my head knocks back to the grass. He hums contentedly and licks again. His tongue traces around the hole, licking at the edges gently.

It feels good. Really good. I let myself moan and push back towards Harry’s head. I can feel him smirk from where he is pressed into my body, before he licks over me again. We stay like that for a while, Harry kissing and sucking at my hole. I don’t know when I decided I needed more, but I have. 

“Har-ry?”

He lifts his head, “Yes?”

“M-more?”

“Of course.”

He licks over me again, before gently pushing his tongue forward. It dips into me, pushing past the relaxed, yet still tight, ring of muscle. Harry’s tongues is inside me, and I breathe heavily. It feels amazing. There is a slight burn accompanying the pleasure, and I find myself loving it.

He pauses for a second, giving me time to adjust to the intrusion. When he’s sure I’m ready, he starts to pull out. A complaint is on my lips, but then he’s pushing back in. Hard. A string of curses and “ah” escape my mouth instead, and Harry thrusts into me again. The burn sparks up every time he pushes in, and it tingles through my body. I rock my hips into him again, and lose myself in his tongue. Sweat starts to gather on my forehead and stomach, the sun pulsing down on us. He licks at my insides, and I groan as he fucks into me. He hits a sweet spot somewhere and I shake slightly. This is so much better than I imagined.

Harry pulls away from my thighs and looks up at me. 

“Fingers?”

“Oh Merlin yes,” I exclaim. He laughs at me eagerness before licking again. He jabs his tongue in once or twice, before removing it. He coats his middle finger with lube that he conjured with literally nothing, no wand or words, and pushes it gently in. The burn becomes searing, and I gasp in pain. Harry freezes inside me, one knuckle invisible. He looks worriedly up at me, but I nod for him to continue. He starts pushing in again, slipping into the second knuckle. The pain hurts less, but it’s definitely still there. 

He pauses for a little while, finger half inside me. Then he pushes further, and sinks in fully. I lie there panting, trying to force the pain away.

“Relax Draco,” he murmurs. I do as he says and relax further. The pain lessens considerably, and I start to like it more and more. He begins to pump the finger in and out of me, while sucking hard at a spot on my thigh. I start moaning at all of the sensations. My cock is now leaking precome onto my stomach in copious amounts, and I feel amazing.

“An-oth-er?” I manage to get out.

“You want a second?”

I nod hurriedly at him. The one finger is starting to feel weird now that the pleasurable burn has gone, and I think that by adding another it will feel better. Harry pulls his middle finger out most of the way, before sliding in his index finger next to it. I was correct. The extra stretch of his second finger brings back the pleasure, and I find myself gasping. I rock back on his hand, trying to get them in me further. When they somehow do breach further, he slams right into my prostate, and I cry out suddenly.

I briefly feel Harry lower his head again, and I become self conscious of what he may see. But the thought is driven from my mind as something wet and warm slithers next to my fingers. His tongue is licking around his hand, swiping over my stretched hole but not actually breaching into it. I moan and arch into him, and his hands start speeding up. It’s so intense, and fervent, and perfect. I feel myself rapidly approaching the end, my legs starting to shake again. This time however, Harry doesn’t stop. Instead, he adds a third finger, eliciting much more of a burn. It’s delicious, and only gets better as it gets faster and harder. Harry hits my prostate a couple of times before slipping his tongue in with the fingers. I don’t last long after that. 

My breath hitches, a strangled noise escaping my throat. My hole starts clenching around Harry, and I see stars. 

I call out in my pleasure, “Fuck, Harry, fuck.” He never stops his movements, and I feel myself falling off a cliff, deep into my orgasm. My cock pulses my release onto my stomach, striping my pale skin with white. Once I’ve calmed down a bit, Harry pulls away and crawls up me again. Careful not to touch the cum on my stomach, he smashes his lips to mine. They are red and slightly sticky, and his tongue tastes strange, but it’s one of the best kisses of my life. Our mouths dance again, no longer fighting each other, and I run my hands over his back. He pulls away and smiles, before using his wand to clean me off.

I lie there for a while, the grass digging into me, before remembering something. I open my eyes and push Harry off me. He kneels and raises an eyebrow, tilting his head in silent question. I gaze pointedly at his still hard, dripping cock. It must be painful. I hum before shuffling forward.

“Let’s return the favour…” A grin (which I hope is at least somewhat devilish) flashes onto my features. On my hands and knees, I crawl to him and lick a stripe down his body. Reaching his cock, I plant a soft, sloppy kiss to the head. Harry shudders above me, his hand grabbing at my hair roughly. I lick around his sensitive tip, sucking some of his precome into my mouth.

I tongue his slit and grin at Harry’s reaction. Deciding to let him come quickly because he seems desperate, I suck the head into my mouth. My tongue circles around it, covering his cock with warmth and making him shake. He pulls at my hair and I groan around him. The vibrations from my sound amplify his pleasure, so I make sure to keep moaning. My hands come up to wrap around the rest of his cock and to fondle his balls. I slip my mouth down further, trying to cover as much of him as possible. 

Harry’s cock slips up deeper into my mouth, and I lick around the head as best as I can while also sucking. He groans loudly, legs trembling. I start to move, setting up a fast and urgent pace. My tongue slips from around the head to the slit, and I push my tongue into it. He jerks, biting back a moan. My hand joins in with my mouth, forming a punishing speed. His balls jiggle in my hand as he starts moving his hips uncontrollably. 

“Draco. Uh, you’re so- good at this,” Harry chokes out. His hand tightens in my hair even more, and his other one sits on my top lip. He pushes into my swollen, red lip with his thumb, eyes focused on it. With a twitch and lots of stuttered gibberish, Harry comes in my mouth. Surprised, I rush to swallow as much as I can. I get most of it, but I can feel some running down my chin. I milk him through his orgasm before pulling off of his cock with a pop and a gurgling sound. 

“Bit of warning would’ve been nice,” I tease. 

“Oh, shove off.” 

  
  



	11. Parchment and Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry study in preparation for their DADA assignment, and Blaise is not happy. At all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be one of the last chapters. I’m thinking two more at the max, and probably an epilogue. Hope you enjoy!

After what happened at the lake, both Harry and I decide that we should take advantage of the nearly empty castle and do some work on our DADA assignment. The library, as predicted, has no one in it. It’s awfully quiet as I’m pulling books down from the shelves, and I’m afraid to make any noise lest Madam Pince scream at me. I scan the titles written on the spine in old cursive, struggling to find any information on the Curse of the Bogies. I assumed when choosing this topic that it would be easy to find things since Quirrell told us about it back in First Year, but it’s ridiculously difficult.

“You found anything?” Harry asks as he comes up behind me, snaking his arms around my waist. 

“No,” I sigh. “I don’t know what we’re going to do, Harry.”

“We have a whole week Draco. We can get this done.”

“That’s my point! Only a week!” I must sound exasperated.

Instead of arguing with me, he rubs calming circles into my skin. I force myself to take a breath.

“Ok, I’m overreacting, aren’t I?”

“Just a little bit,” Harry admits. “Come on, I already have a couple of books.” He leads me back through the many aisles and we sit down at our messy table.

Our parchments are a disaster, ink splotches everywhere, lines of writing crossed out, and small tears. I move our pages of notes away and realise that our supposed ‘final essay’ is in a very similar state. So instead of finding new information, I decide to rewrite our essay. I clear a little patch of desk for myself and grab and quill. Tearing off some fresh parchment to use, I dip my quill into some ink and start copying. Harry notices and smirks.

“Procrastinating, Draco? I didn’t think that was very like you,” he sneers.

“I hate Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“How come? I thought you would’ve rather liked it.”

“I’d prefer to do some practical work.”

“Yeah, essays are getting boring.”

“You can say that again,” I grumble.

We lapse into silence once again, and time starts ticking slowly. I calm down while I trace letters with black ink, the natural storm inside dropping to a waterfall. It feels like my soul is trickling around my body, through my blood, trying - and succeeding - to make me feel light and happy. I smile to myself as I flick between the draft and the finished version I’m writing. Every now and then Harry looks over to me and tells me to add something on later, and I scribble the note onto the draft. By the time the sun is setting and the students are returning, we have a very nearly completed essay.

I pass it to Harry to read over, and he nods the whole way through. I didn’t really need to find much information at all, I just worked whatever he found into it. I feel relieved. I don’t have to worry about it anymore, or spend all night thinking about it, or place it above Harry. 

“Not that you did much of that anyway, but yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Huh?”

“What you were just saying…”

“I didn’t say anything…” I furrow my brows in confusion for a second, before, “Oh! Oh!” My cheeks are heating in embarrassment. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah,” Harry chuckles. “It was cute.”

I scoff at him, shaking my head. He reaches for my hand above the table and holds it gently in his. “This essay looks really good.”

I smile softly and pull my hand away, before standing up to leave. Harry flicks his wand and sends everything into neat piles. I pickup the stack of books and set off to return them to their place, and Harry starts packing the parchment and quills away. Walking through the many aisles is strange to me. There are so many books that I’ve never read. So many that I won’t ever read. I’ll never know the secrets and knowledge inside, and I don’t know how to feel about that. I pull the first book - a bright green one with black writing - from my arm and reach up to carefully wedge it between two red ones. Their titles tell me that they are also about DADA, focusing mainly on other curses. I flick through the other books I’m holding, looking for the next one. It’s a little purple one, title and author in tiny silver cursive. 

I scan the other names as I walk, searching for the spot for the purple book. I find it pretty quickly, and return it to its place. The next book is bigger than the last, with a yellow cover and grey script. Pacing down the aisle again I allow myself to think. To think about how fortunate I am to be with Harry like this. How lucky I am to be a House Representative, to be a tutor. Finding the next spot, I quickly push the yellow book into it. I only have a couple left, and I rush through them. Once all of the books that we used are away, I turn around and head out of the library. 

~~~~~~~~

I push open the door into my dorm room, praying that Blaise is out. No such luck, of course. 

“Where have you been!” He yells. “I haven’t seen you for weeks!”

“It’s really not your business,” I reply coolly.

“Who’s is it then?” He demands. “And who did that to you?!”

“Did what-” I look down at myself. “Oh.” Of course he noticed Harry’s marks. They were perfectly covered ten seconds ago, I’m sure. “It’s still none of your business.”

“It was Potter, wasn’t it?” I remain silent. “You’re still with that scum?!”

“Do not call him that!”

“Why not, huh? Is your Saviour boyfriend gonna kick my ass?” Blaise mocks.

I stand still, frozen in place by the door, terrified of what he will do. And then I see something. Something that will change the tide of this conversation completely.

“And who did that to you?”

“I don’t kno-” He pauses, panic rising in his face. “Oh you bitch,” he seethes. I smirk, staring blatantly at the hickeys left on his own skin, not quite hidden just below his collar.

“Do I know him?” I inquire.

“Her,” he grits out.

“Sure sure.”

Blaise doesn’t make a move to say anything else, so I drop the subject and cross the room. I reach my bed and flop down onto it. With my hands under my head and my ankles crossed I ask, “Is it Pansy?”

I can practically sense the anger boiling off him. “No. She’s with that pathetic Ravenclaw boy!” Blaise spits.

“Still not over her, I see,” I say. “So… Was the person who did this a one night stand, to replace Pansy?” Someone overhearing might think I’m being curious, and I’m hoping Blaise is no different.

“I’m not answering your questions!”

“Why ever not?”

“They are intrusive and inappropriate.”

Bingo. “Oh, are they now?” I watch as his face starts to darken, a flush rising to his cheeks and neck. “Because they sound shockingly familiar… Where would I have heard them before?” I pretend to think on it for a second before pointing my finger in the air in triumph. “Oh yeah! You asked them to me!”

Blaise looks sheepish and annoyed, all of his muscles tensed. Instead of rushing to hit me or fleeing from the room like I expect, he growls. Low, dark, and threatening. “I would watch your mouth if I were you.”

I want to irk him further, but realise how dangerous this could become for me. So I raise my hands above my head in surrender before settling down again on my bed. Just as I’m about to flick my curtains closed and get some sleep, I hear stomping footsteps and the door slam shut.

~~~~~~~~

Harry enters the Common Room, sees me, and makes his over quickly. As his hurried footsteps slow, I look up. His nose is bleeding and his lip is bruised and split open. I trail my eyes down his figure and notice blooms of purple on him as well. When I glance back at his face, I have to stop myself from running my hands along him, comfortingly. 

“What happened?” I ask, although I already have a theory.

“That asshole you share a dorm with.” Suspicion confirmed. Instead of saying anything, I nod my head solemnly. I take ahold of his hand and use it to pull myself up, before dragging the both of us out into the corridor. I glance up and down, and once I’m satisfied we are alone I cup his face gently.

Harry presses into me, his eyes revealing how much he needs this comfort. 

“What has he done?” I whisper.

Instead of answering, Harry shakes his head at me. He isn’t ready to say it, so my job right now is to make sure he is okay. I nod to show him I understand and lean our foreheads together. I gaze into his eyes, drowning in the emerald sea that is Harry. My other hand rises up to hold at the small of his back, and I rub circles into his warm skin. Harry’s face opens to me, letting me see his thoughts and emotions clearly. His face is creased in silent worry. The shadows under his eyes are greater than usual, big purple semi-circles on his tan skin. But despite this, his eyes are still alive.

A footstep in the corridor draws my attention away from Harry, and I take a step back. Turning to the sound, I meet the eyes of Blaise. Again. I feel - so much as sense - Harry tense up next to me. I clench my own muscles, ready to be attacked. 

“Blaise,” I say coldly.

“Draco,” Harry warns me in a whisper.

“Draco, Potter.” Blaise doesn’t sound cruel so much as tolerant. I quirk an eyebrow. “I do believe I owe you boys.”

“Whatever for?” I spit. I turn to Harry and nod to him, telling him to stay out of the conversation. He bows his head in agreement.

“For that,” Blaise gestured to Harry’s beaten body.

I remain in silence.

“It was wrong of me to hit you, Potter.” We stare, stunned. “And I shouldn’t have said the things I did, Draco.”

“Who, in the name of Merlin, put you up to this?”

Blaise shakes his head, and I notice that he’s growing impatient. Clenched fists and drawn eyebrows taking away from the kind smile - even that is steadily fading. “Nobody.”

“I’m not sure I believe that.”

“Good.”

Blaise draws his wand and fires of a  _ Stupefy _ before I even get the chance to notice. It is streaking through the air coming straight for me. My heart skips a beat and I rush to my own wand, but the spell is already gone. Already deflected. I turn to the one person that could have been. Harry’s shocking green eyes meet mine, and a smirk plays in his lips. I note the holly length of wood sticking out of his sleeve, curled inside his fingers protectively. I return the smirk, and pivot to glare at my attacker. 

Surprise is an understatement. His eyebrows are up in his hair. His hands are shaking, no longer in fists. His posture is upright and firm, like he’s just been jumpscared. I roll my eyes. 

“Did you really forget Harry was here? Rooky mistake,” I taunt.

Harry sends a flying _Expelliarmus_ at him while I put up a _Protego Maxima_. I watch as the burst of sparks shoot straight for Blaise, and as he leaps away. A ring of ash is left on the stone wall, forever exclaiming about his near-hit. He glares at us, anger in his eyes, and fires off a barrage of quick-fire spells. Various jinxes come flying, bouncing off walls and ceilings, leaving scorch marks and odd substances behind. 

But none of them hit us. The shield I conjured is holding strong and firm, and I’m constantly making it stronger. A particularly fierce  _ Leg-locking Jinx  _ collides with our bubble of safety, and I flinch into Harry. He wraps an arm around my waist and kisses my forehead, before ducking out of cover and shooting more spells. 

_ ”Petrificus Totalus!” _ He shouts, wand aiming straight for Blaise. Blaise throws up a hasty  _ Protego, _ and closes his eyes. I can see his brain whirring, hoping for the best. Unfortunately, luck is on his side and the shield holds. I watch as he breathes a sigh of relief and squares his shoulders. 

Deciding that I’ve had enough, I leave the shield as well. Just long enough for me to cast a  _ Flippendo  _ at Blaise. It hits him in the chest and he is flung back into the wall. I revel in my success, a flutter of delight in my stomach. But it doesn’t last long. An  _ Incendio  _ is flung at me, but I don’t have time to jump out of the way. My breath hitches as my arm starts burning in pain. And literally. Flame creeps up my robe sleeve, singing through it. I hurry to cast an  _ Aguamenti  _ at my arm, hissing as smoke flies into my face. My arm is turning pink, and ash is sticking to it in an ugly grey cast. I scowl. A shout startles me back, and see Harry crumple over in pain. He is clutching at his leg, blood tracing spirals down it. He shudders, and I snap.

“That’s it,” I murmur under my breath. I don’t normally do anything reckless like this, but all my anger at Blaise from this entire term comes at me like a tsunami. I surge forward, running away from Harry, and consequently, my shield. Before I have time to reconsider, I’m charging at the boy who insults me, who keeps me locked away in my own mind. Who doesn’t see this coming. A scream rips from his throat, and I know why. I look wild. Insane. Dangerous. I throw myself at him and shove him into the wall. The cool of the stone is delicious against my skin. Reaching a hand to his head, I grab at his hair. The dark strands are easy to pull, and I do so. 

A startled yelp is ripped from Blaise, and it distracts him enough for me to be able to bring my knee up and hit him in the groin. He doubles over in pain, and a grin splits my face. I prepare to punch him in the gut too, but hands are suddenly grabbing me, pulling me away from him. Struggling to be free, I lash out and claw at my captor. My nails hit flesh and a groan is dragged from the person’s lips. And I recognise the voice. I twist in his grasp and sigh, dragged back to the surface. Pure green hits me full impact, and I feel myself melt. Harry has his hands wrapped tightly around me, and I feel betrayed. He’s stopping me injuring the person who’s caused us the most grief. The world starts to fade around me, and it’s only Harry I see. His concerned gaze confuses me, but I don’t have time to think on it. Everything goes dark, like I’m in a trench at the bottom of the ocean.

~~~~~~~~

Muffled voices fill my ears, but none of them come into focus. I don’t remember anything, except that I was hit. I don’t know who or what by, but I remember searing pain and intense frustration. The slow whir of noise makes me realise where I am. The hospital wing. I’m unable to open my eyes, but I can feel sheets over my body and a pillow beneath my head. Dizziness creeps in, and the room starts spinning. Distantly, the whir becomes louder and sharper, and the voices retreat. A shadow crosses my eyelids, and I determine that a light is shining in my eyes. 

Someone is leaning over me, and I think they are trying to talk to me. Or talk to themselves. I don’t know though. I can’t be sure, not being able to hear or see them. I feel my arm being lifted from my side and carefully twisted. But I can’t - not really. I can feel the movement in my shoulder, not actually on the skin or in the muscles of my forearm. It is released and falls gently back to my side, and pain shoots through me. I flinch, shuddering with pain. I’m being shaken now, harshly, as if trying to get me to wake. But I’m already awake… A flash of light sparks into my closed eyes, and I recoil immediately into myself and the bed. 

Movement and sound halts. Everything is still and distant, as if I’ve been placed under muffling and notice-me-not charms. And then everything bursts into activity again. Spells are fired off, each and every one aimed solely at me. Flashes of white come flying, and then they become green, yellow, and blue. Circles of flame and comet-like balls hurl themselves at me, and I find myself flinching at each one. But none of them hurt me. I scream as a particularly bright one knocks the wind from my throat. The shout sounds mangled and desperate. What’s wrong with me?

“Mr. Malfoy. What on earth have you done to yourself?” The person is back, leaning over me. The voice sounds female, and I identify it as Madam Pomfrey. And then-

“Wait. I can hear you!” I exclaim. I never knew how much I liked having sound. Now that I am paying attention again, the muffled voices are gone. They have been replaced by clear ones, carrying out conversations throughout the entire ward. I sigh in relief. 

“Thank Merlin too. I was really worried for a moment there,” Madam Pomfrey concedes. “Can you see though?”

I hadn’t even realised that my eyes are still closed. I tentatively force them open, and them rush to shut them again. 

“I could see things, but it hurt.”

“What type of pain?”

“Immense burning.” I pause, going over what I saw. 

The room I’m in is curtained off from everything else, with locking charms keeping it sanctioned. The room is fairly bright, and there is a table covered in potion bottles next to me. My bed is crisp white and quite new. One detail is escaping me though. What did I see?

“Drink this potion then,” she says, scribbling into her notebook all the while. 

I open my mouth as the liquid tips itself in, my ears strain as it stoppers itself and floats back to the table. “Open them again, Mr. Malfoy.”

Doing as she instructs, I hesitantly open my eyes. No pain. No searing, immense hurt. I beam as I glance around the room again, this time taking everything in. 

I notice another bed within the curtained section, and a mop of black hair is poking out of the sheets. I gasp at Harry’s pale skin, and a comforting hand rubs up and down my back. 

“He will be fine, Mr. Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey assures. I nod my head at her, but my heart is still clenching painfully at the sight. I look down myself then, and I feel like I’m drowning again. My left arm is bandaged firmly, but blood is starting to seep through it. My head feels dizzy as I realise what has happened. 

“Blaise…”

“Did Mr. Zabini cast this spell?”

I nod distantly. I know why he did it too. 

“Dar- ma- k.” That’s all I can get out, as my voice starts failing. 

~~~~~~~~

“Draco!” A voice that sounds familiar is calling me, and I slip to the surface again. I pry my eyes open, and green overwhelms me. 

“Harry!” I cry out. His hands clutch at my face, as if he’s afraid to lose me. His thumb rubs over my cheek, and his other traces its way to my lips. It sits heavily on my bottom one, and I desperately want to kiss him. 

“Are you okay?” His eyes are concerned and his forehead creased.

“I feel fine, I guess,” I shrug. “Better than I did.” I reach up and place my hand over his. “What about you?! Last I saw you were bleeding.”

“Oh yeah. It was fixed very easily, everything was surface damage, so I’m perfectly fine.” 

“Mr. Potter, can you please shuffle over?” Harry looks startled, wrenching his hand away from me. When he realises that it’s only Pomfrey, he clasps my hand on the bed. Pomfrey slides in next to him and starts checking me over. She casts her customary charms and spells, and determines that I’m quickly recovering. Then she looks at my arm. Peeling the bandages back, I wince in pain. She apologises, but doesn’t stop. Once it’s peeled to my wrist, she Vanishes it. I force myself to look at my arm, and nearly recoil in disgust. The skin is blistered and red. Dried blood coats the skin that’s peeling off, and I feel sick to my stomach.

“Much better,” Pomfrey murmurs to herself. I shudder at the implication. “I think I can heal the rest of this with magic. Although, it will scar.”

“That’s fine.”

She sets about giving me various potions again, before aiming her wand at my arm. The spells she casts are silent, and thankfully painless. I watch, stomach tight, as my skin starts to fold back onto my arm. I can feel new flesh being created under the folds of old skin, and wonder how it’s happening. When my arm is totally covered again, the old skin starts to peel away again. It floats off my arm and into the air, where Pomfrey Vanishes it. I glance back down, and my a light of happiness cuts through the water inside me.

“It’s gone…” I whisper to Harry, astonishment in my voice.

“Yes, Draco. It is.”


	12. Indignant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco solve a few problems and deal with some things, as well as creating some new ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this is a couple of days late! I had a rather shit and busy week. The next chapter is the last, so get ready for an ending! Xx

I can’t believe how much lighter I feel. How distant I feel to my past, to my father, to the snake of a man I used to worship. And how much closer I feel to Harry, to everyone else at school. I no longer feel like my head could go under at any time, but rather more like I’m standing under a gentle jet of water—like a shower. 

The lights glare into my eyes as I sit up slowly, awakening from sleep yet again. My head hurts dully, and there is a tight pressure hugging my forearm. The pillow is soft behind my back, and the blankets are warm across my legs. It almost makes me want to go back to sleep. Almost. 

“You’re awake!” Harry comes hurtling at me, arms extended. He reaches my side terrifyingly quickly from the other side of the hospital wing and pulls me into a hug. His arms wrap securely around me, his head resting my shoulder next to my own head. I find myself sighing into his embrace. 

“Kiss me,” I plead. Harry obliges, his lips meeting mine in a gentle caress. There is no tongue, no intense emotions or desire. Just our mouths meeting and words going unsaid between us that don’t need to be said out loud. It’s nice, and I reach my hands up to his neck, gently pulling his face closer to me. Our foreheads knock together, but we don’t separate. A cough behind us however, makes Harry step out of my reach again. 

“Let me investigate the patient, Potter.” He nods to Madam Pomfrey, pacing out of the way. The nurse waves her wand over me, smiling as she does so. “You seem to have made a full recovery, Malfoy.”

“Excellent!” A new voice joins the conversation, and I recognise it as Headmistress McGonagall’s. “Just in time.”

“Just in time for what?” I inquire.

“For you to tell me what on earth happened, of course.”

I sigh. “I don’t really feel like it right now, Headmistress.”

“Well, I need to have a firm talk to whoever did this, and Potter refuses to speak on your behalf.”

Fine. “It was Blaise. He attacked me in the hall.”

“Zabini did this?”

I nod.

“Whatever for?”

“He doesn’t like me being with Harry.”

“How come?”

Merlin, she asks a lot of questions. “I don’t know. Maybe because we’re two boys.” I pause, thinking. “Almost definitely, actually.”

McGonagall pinches the bridge of her nose, her glasses shifting up to her forehead. “Zabini attacked you because he’s homophobic?”

I don’t reply, letting my silence answer. “He beat up Harry too,” I add.

“I’m aware,” she says. “What do think should be his punishment?”

This is hardly a question you’re supposed to be asking someone who has just woken up in a hospital after being beaten. “Something to make sure he won’t do this to anyone else. Nothing more.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Positive.”

Granger and Weasley approach now, catching the end of the conversation. Weasley looks stunned by my response, whereas Granger is smiling in approval. Harry notices his friends and crosses over to meet them, drawing them into short hugs. McGonagall watches in silence before speaking to Harry.

“What about you, Potter?”

“I agree with Draco. Something to make Zabini regret what he did to us, but nothing to put him out of his mind.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

With that, the Headmistress walks out of the hospital wing. 

“Malfoy, are you okay?” Granger asks worriedly. Since when was she concerned about me?

“I’m fine,” I reply shortly.

“Okay, but if you need anything you can ask me.”

“We aren’t friends, Granger.”

She blushes, the colour rich on her skin. “Yes, well…”

“But why not, Malfoy?” Weasley asks, an arm sling around Granger’s shoulders. 

I scoff. “Because you’ve hated me for eight years. And the feeling is mutual.”

“That doesn’t matter with Harry,” he counters. 

“Well, yes…”

“So what’s the real problem here?” 

“The problem, Ron, is that he’d rather wallow in his emotions than talk to us. Come on.” Granger tugs on Weasley’s arm, pulling him away from my bed. 

“Uncalled for, ‘Mione.” Harry is finally speaking up, tired of watching the exchange from the sidelines. “He is injured, and-” I don’t hear the rest, as he leans forward to touch his lips to her ear. Her eyebrows rise to her hairline because of whatever Harry whispered to her. 

“Oh. Of course, why didn’t I come to that conclusion?”

I watch from my bed as she repeats whatever the secret is to Weasley. He putters indecently, but then stops. 

“Come to think of it, it isn’t actually that hard to see why,” he says. 

I roll my eyes at the trio, and settle back under the covers. The warm cocoon I’ve made is lovely, and I start to doze off again. Retreating footsteps fill my ears.

“Mr. Malfoy. You are officially discharged from the Hospital Wing.”  _ Of course I am.  _ “You are free to leave immediately.” Madam Pomfrey pulls the blankets out of my fists and drags them off me. I shiver into the cold air and groan. A warm hand presses gently into my shoulder, and I fling my eyes open. Seeing emerald circles looking at me, I close them again and sigh into the touch. 

“Come on Draco. Time to get up,” Harry murmurs into my ear. I twist my head to plant a soft kiss to his lips and smile dopily at him. His answering hand reaches into my hair, carding through it gently. I allow myself to be pulled off the bed and stand on slightly wobbly legs. 

I throw an arm around his waist in order to stabilize myself, and he flings one over my shoulders too. We walk out of the hospital and into the corridor outside. The sun is down, stars lighting the hallway through the windows. There are no students anywhere to be seen, so I smash my mouth to Harry’s. He lets out a startled laugh before opening his lips to my tongue. We stand there, kissing, for what could be seconds or hours. By the time we pull away, I’m exhausted. The trek to our dorms is long, and I yawn the whole way there.

~~~~~~~~

“If one person from each pair could bring up their essays silently, that would be much appreciated.” Professor Falco stands up from behind her desk, gesturing to a cleared section. Harry slides our completed parchment across to me, and I stand along with half of the Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Walking up to the front of the room, I take a deep breath. Harry and I did everything we could for this essay. We spent hours pouring over books, writing out notes, neatening everything up. Practising the Curse of the Bogies proved relatively challenging, but eventually we both succeeded. I’m proud of the work we are submitting, so I place it in the desk and calmly walk back to my seat. 

Ignoring all of the stares is difficult. People don’t seem to realise that just because it’s out in the open, it doesn’t mean that they can look. The skin on my forearm has attracted a lot of attention since I left the hospital wing, the topic of choice for the gossip. The milky white, unblemished skin is what everyone is talking about. The lack of the Dark Mark. No one knows exactly what happened, although there are a lot of theories. Some people think I used a simple charm to reverse it.  _ If it was that simple, I would’ve done it ages ago.  _ Some think I was disowned, and that the Mark removed itself somehow.  _ Even though the two aren’t related at all. Although, Father probably would like to disown me about now, with the whole Harry thing.  _ Others have come up with the wild theory that I tore my arm off and replaced it with someone else’s. 

Blaise has fucked off, giving Harry and I a wide berth. He has kept relatively to himself, head down and silent. I’m not sure exactly what his punishment was, or is, but it is definitely working. I sit down again, forcing myself to surface from my thoughts. Harry’s hand finds my thigh and rests it there, rubbing circles onto it through my robes. It used to be a comforting thing between us, used only when the other is upset or angry. Over the months of this term though, it’s become more of a display of our feelings. The pressure is different depending on Harry’s emotions, and the size is constantly changing. Right now, it’s just a reminder of his attachment to me, and that he is happy. I smile at him and place my hand on top of his. 

“Thank you all. Everyone has handed in something, which is to be expected really, so I should get these back to you sometime next week. For the rest of this lesson, I will let you work on anything for your other classes,” Professor Falco declares. A cheer rises in the room, and bags are opened and belongings are shoved in and others removed. I have nothing to work on, but Harry does. So I help him. His Charms work is easy, at least it is for me. He disagrees though, so we spend most of an hour going through it all. He smiles when it’s done, kissing me sweetly. Whoops and wolf whistles ring into my ears, and my cheeks heat. I’d actually forgotten that other people are around.  _ Oh well. _ I kiss him just to prove a point to everyone, and Harry reaches for another book.

~~~~~~~~

“Good afternoon, sir.” Edward’s voice fills up the classroom, echoing off the stone walls. I greet the Third Year welcomingly. 

“What are we looking at today?” I ask him, itching to distract myself.

“The Confusing Concoction, sir.”

“Okay, lets get started then!” I exclaim, and send him off to gather the ingredients. “Oh. And drop the ‘sir’ please. ‘Draco’ is fine.”

“Of course, Draco,” comes the reply from the cupboard. I shake my head, a smile on my lips. Edward rushes back to our table, laying out the Scurvy Grass, Lovage, and Sneezewort. The boy has improved drastically since our first session. Not that there was much wrong with him though. He just needed a push—or rather, a shove off a cliff—in the right direction.

We get into the routine of setting the cauldron to boil while reading over the instructions. I get Edward to underline all of the important information so it stands out, and he chats happily away as he does so. It’s now a habit, dragging his hand across the parchment and underlining the directions and corresponding ingredients. Once he’s finished making notes and the cauldron’s boiled, we get to chopping and stirring. The constant movement of Edward adding ingredients, stirring the potion in the cauldron, and the liquid bubbling happily sufficiently distracts me from whatever it was I wanted to forget about. 

The Confusing Concoction turns into the beautiful emerald green in the drawing, and I instruct Edward to finish it off. 

“Confundo!” He waves his wand above the cauldron as he casts the spell, and the liquid spits a bit. Exactly as it should. 

“Brilliant job, Edward,” I exclaim. He blushes slightly at the praise, beaming as he scoops some out and into a bottle. Saying nothing, he sets about cleaning and packing up the equipment. 

I watch in silence as well, thinking back on the times I’ve tutored him. He started off deliberately messing around and failing. He didn’t want to appear lame in front of his peers. Then he realised that he could trust me, and he started showing me his true talent for Potions. Now though, he’s stopped pretending to be bad, and is getting straight O’s in all of his tests. This means that I’ve done my job, and that he no longer needs my help. This thought strikes a chord inside me, and I feel- almost sad. 

“Hey, Edward?” Merlin, I don’t know how to start this conversation.

“Yeah?”

“I heard that your grades have improved dramatically recently,” I try. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m getting a lot of Outstandings.” He sounds confused as to the meaning behind this conversation, eyebrows furrowed. And then he realises. I see it click in his brain. He posture snaps, sharpening immediately into a cautious form. It’s something I used to do, when I didn’t want someone to see me upset. “You want to get rid of me?”

Horrified, I say, “No! Absolutely not Edward!” His shoulders relax slightly, but his hands are in fists by his side and he is still facing the cupboards. “However,” I start, “I don’t really think you need my help anymore. You have proven to be quite a prodigy really.” I let out a sad, dry laugh. 

“So…” he says, “you can’t tutor me again?”

“Well, technically not.” I unconsciously rub at the back of my neck, feeling my skin warm. “But. I do rather like spending my afternoons doing Potions with you. So what do you think about continuing doing this, for fun?” 

He spins around to face me, jaw slack and dropped open in surprise. His muscles loosen and his hands still beside him. 

And then he’s running at me. He wraps his arms around me in a constricting hug, squeezing tight. I laugh gently, bringing my hands to his back as well. Seemingly realising what he’s doing, he lurches away, releasing me. He regains his normal posture, but is still beaming with joy. “That would be amazing Draco!”

“What would be ‘amazing’ Draco?”

The voice startles both Edward and I, and I spin around to confront whoever spoke. I immediately feel utterly ridiculous. “Harry!” 

Harry grins back at the two of us and steps into the stone classroom, his footsteps echoing off the walls. I rush to embrace him, my arms tight across his muscular back. 

“What are you doing in here?” Harry asks.

“Well, Edward and I have just finished the Confusing Concoction, and we’re arranging some things.”

“Yeah!” The Third Year, helpfully, inputs.

Harry nods, smiling down at Edward and stepping out of my reach. “That’s brilliant.”

“Anyway,” I say, “we just need to finish off some details and then we’ll be done.”

“Okay. Do you want me to wait outside?”

I look to Edward and see him incline his head ever so slightly. “Yeah, that’d be good.”

“Okay. See you soon.” Harry lifts my chin with a hand and presses a quick kiss to my lips. Edward makes a choking sound of disgust and turns away as Harry releases me. 

As Harry exists the room, Edward pivots back to me.

“So it’s true?”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“That you’re- um- with Harry Potter?”

“Oh. Yeah it is.”

“That’s- uh- great.”

“You okay?”

“I’m great. It’s just- I didn’t know you were gay…”

“Is that a problem?”

“What?! No! I just-” He pauses to take a breath. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve just never met a gay man before.”

“Oh, okay.” I pause, unsure of where we now stand. 

“So, about the non-tutoring?”

“Of course,” I say, rushing to fill the awkward silence. “We can meet on the same days as normal, but we will make whatever you want to make.” I nod, before, “Within reason, of course.” I don’t want him getting any ideas about brewing ridiculously dangerous and complicated potions. He just nods understandingly, and bids me goodbye.

Harry enters the classroom again and walks over to me. He instantly slams his mouth to mine, arms wrapping around my neck and waist. I inhale quickly, surprised by the sudden kiss. Moving my lips in a delicious motion, I card my hands up through his messy hair. He groans into my mouth and probes at my lips with his tongue. I grant access immediately and meet him halfway. Our tongues slide against each other, wet and warm, and I moan loudly. Harry pulls his tongue away from mine, and I chase it into his mouth. Instead of repeating what we were doing, he sucks at my tongue. Hard. 

I shudder as he closes his mouth around me, and I see stars behind my eyelids. My hands become still in his hair for a second, but then I pull hard. Harry whimpers with the sweet pain, a small noise in the back of his throat. He stops sucking so determinedly and instead uses both hands to pull our hips snug against each other. There is a line pressing into me, and I groan as his erection aligns with mine. Breathing heavily, I rock into him. He smells like cypress wood again, and shea butter clogs my senses. The effect of being fire and smoke both mingle with the amber of his cologne, and I feel myself losing my mind in his scent. 

Harry pulls away from my lips in favour of kissing up and down my jaw. He sucks gently at the skin, licking his way from my chin to my ear. Once he gets to his destination he bites down with his front teeth. A tingling pain merges into the other sensations, a soft yet sharp sting. I breathe heavily and tilt my head to give him better access. He growls possessively and starts spreading his reach to the underside of my chin. This forces me to shift further still, and I end up staring at the ceiling with glazed-over eyes. Harry moves his hands from my waist up to my chest and starts to undo the clasps of my robes. I shiver a bit as he licks a stripe of my skin.

The robes are pushed off my shoulders, slumping awkwardly around my upper arms. Harry doesn’t seem to care though, as he attaches his mouth to the junction of shoulder and neck. Biting down, he marks me with his usually exceedingly gentle mouth. I moan loudly, to preoccupied to notice that my robes are still being undone and pushed to sit comfortably around my hips. He moves lower down my body, kissing his way to my chest. His tongue darts out and licks swirls into my skin, sucking occasionally at random places. My hands tug at his hair again, and his teeth clamp down onto my chest. We both gasp at the pleasure pain.

Harry keeps travelling lower, arriving at my right nipple. He licks around it in tight circles, not giving me the sensation I crave. Sucking at a spot below it, I growl and pulls his head up higher. As desired, his head comes into line with my stiff nipple, and he chuckles as he licks a stripe over it. A moan escapes my mouth and he does it again, smirking.  _ The bastard.  _ His mouth encompasses my nipple, and he sucks down on it. Rolling it between his teeth and tongue he reaches for my other one. His hand pulls at the left nipple in time with his sucking, and I’m slowly being driven mad. 

Deciding that if this goes on much longer I’ll come prematurely, I push him away and start kissing him again. He groans as I lick into his mouth and between his lips. His hands drop to my arse, cupping it harshly. I can feel him kneading it, pushing and pulling it in a delightful manner. Stepping away, I start unclamping his own black robes. Emerald eyes bore into my face as I concentrate on getting them undone. Success. I tug at the fabric, yanking it down and letting it fall of his shoulders. He closes his eyes as the cold air hits his skin, and I pull his arms out of the robe. Satisfied, I latch my mouth onto his neck and start sucking. 

Reciprocating, I lick and bite all the way down his throat and onto his shoulders. I make sure not to leave marks anywhere visible, but no longer care as I reach his chest. My teeth bite fiercely at his skin, leaving a trail of blooming red skin behind me. His left nipple seems to call out to me, and I suck harshly at the erect skin. He bites back a moan and jerks beneath me. Grinning, I let up and lick around the nipple. Not letting my tongue connect with it is annoying for me—since I’m not very good at controlling myself—but it is even more so for Harry. He groans impatiently and then pulls me to his nipple.  _ That’s my move you fucker.  _

“Sorry to interrupt…”

I leap away from Harry, heat rising instantly to my face, neck, and chest. Harry steps away too, hurrying to cover his chest up with his robes. I spin around to confront whoever spoke, and am met by-

“Weasley!” Feeling stick to my stomach, I find my wand in my pocket and flick it to sort out my robes. They fly back up my body and do themselves up instantly. “What are you doing here?!”

“I came to look for Harry…” he defends himself. “I didn’t realise you’d be- uh,” he gestures limply between the two of us.

“Well- we were. Can you- uh?” Harry stammers.

“Leave? With pleasure.” Weasley pivots swiftly, stalking out of the Potions classroom looking burned.

I hold my head in my hands, deeply embarrassed. Harry steps up to me again, his arms snaking around my waist. He doesn’t do anything though, just holds me loosely. Allowing myself this one comfort, I snuggle into his chest. He brings his head next to mine, rubbing circles into my back. “Let me go talk to him,” he says into my hair. And then he’s gone.

~~~~~~~~

**“Ron! Wait up!” Harry shouts down the empty corridor. The yell bounces off the stone, echoing through the hall. He scans around what he see, but there is no sight of the other boy. Sighing, he casts a couple of charms simultaneously to right his clothing and remove any marks Draco has left (except for the ones which are hidden, of course). Harry gives himself a once-over and decides that it’ll do, before sprinting. He gathers that Ron will have rushed back to the Eighth Year common room, seeking comfort and reassurance from his girlfriend. Harry curses loudly, not bothering to hide the swears.**

**Running quickly, Harry rushes up and out of the dungeons. He hopes that if he travels fast enough he’ll catch up to the other boy before he can do anything he regrets.**

**“Ron!” He calls out again. There is still no response, and there aren’t any footsteps reaching his ears, so he must’ve been running as well. Harry pushes harder, legs starting to ache with the speed and force. He leaps up several staircases, feet hitting the stone steps with a satisfying thud. His lungs are burning by the time he turns onto the landing with the suit of armour, there is still no sight of Ron.**

**“Andros the Invincible.” The visor clicks open and the hidden door to the common room reveals itself. Impatient, Harry hurries through it. His heart races as he looks around the room. But he isn’t in there. Harry clenches his fists. He must’ve gotten it wrong. Where else could Ron have gone? Of course. Why hadn’t he though of that sooner? Turning around, he starts sprinting once again. His lungs scream in protest and his throat is dry, but now he is certain he knows where the boy is.**

**“I knew you’d be here,” he exclaims when he pushes open the door. He had been right. Since Ron was seeking out his girlfriend, it should’ve been rather obvious. But Harry hadn’t been thinking clearly. It makes perfect sense now though.**

**“How?” Ron answers coldly.**

**“I figured you’d be looking for Hermione, and she spends most of her time here. In the library.”**

**Ron scoffs, out of character, and has a put-upon expressions across his red face. “I don’t want to talk to** **_you._ ** **”**

**“I thought you said you were fine with Draco and I?” Harry phrases it as a question, even though he knows it’s true.**

**“I’m aware of what I said. And in theory—I was.” Ron pauses to swallow, clearly thinking about his words so as not to offend his best friend. “It’s just- different when you actually see it.”**

**Harry nods, understanding. “I never meant for you to walk in, Ron.”**

**“I know you didn’t,” he sighs. “I just panicked. I like to pretend that other people—especially my friends—don’t do these things.”**

**Harry nods again, letting a smile ghost over his lips. The lips he was just kissing Draco with, trailing over his- No. He can’t think about that here, not when he was trying to apologise. “I’m sorry, Ron. I didn’t think.”**

**“Don’t apologise, you git! You did nothing wrong except not cast a locking charm.” He pauses to think, scrubbing his hand over his not-so-red-anymore face. “But the Potions classroom?! Really mate?”**

**Harry blushes fiercely, and wonders if he can deny it. But of course he can’t! Ron** **_walked in._ ** **Hence this whole mess. So instead he shrugs, preferring that to admitting that Draco had been driving him insane all day. All week, really.**

**“What’s going on here?” Another voice joins the conversation, and Harry turns to face Hermione; whose arms are full with books on Ancient Runes.**

**“Oh, um,” Ron helpfully adds.**

**“Just a talk. Man to man, you know?” Harry tries.**

**Hermione narrows her eyes though, placing the books down on the table and her hands on her hips. “No, I don’t know. Explain why the air is thick with awkward tension please.”**

**Harry sighs, annoyed at how quickly she can cut through his nonsense lies. Not that what he said is technically a lie, but still. “Ron walked in on me and Draco.”**

**“You and Draco wha-” A furious blush catches her cheeks. She turns to Ron, “You don’t mean…?”**

**“Oh yeah,” he dazedly nods.**

**“Oh- um.” Hermione seems flustered for what must be the first time in her life. She recovers quickly though. “Well, you should’ve been prepared for that. You know they’re dating—have been for months—and if you just waltz into one of their dorms-”**

**“Oh, but no. Hermione, no. They weren’t in a dorm room.” Harry feels himself blushing furiously, and he makes to leave. “Oh no. You are not going anyway Harry.” Well shit, now he was stuck here.**

**“Where were they then?”**

**“In the Potions classroom!”**

**“What?!” Hermione turns to Harry, a vastly disapproving glare in her eyes. “How could you Harry!”**

**Harry shrugs away the question once again. Hermione isn’t having it though. “Fine. But you’ll see why I didn’t want to tell you.”**

**The others hold up the hands and shake their heads. “Oh no. You aren’t getting out of this that easily, mate,” Ron says.**

**Harry sighs. “Draco has been driving me mad lately, and I was impatient.”**

**“So you decide you want to fuck in a classroom?!” Hermione’s indignant voice screams.**

**“Quiet down ‘Mione,” Harry hisses. She just shakes her head again, disgust written over her features. “I’ve had enough of this conversation,” he declares. He pivots on his heel and walks out of the library and away from his infuriating friends. The sensible ones of the trio.**

~~~~~~~~

“Let’s talk about something, Harry.” I sit down opposite him on my bed, declining against my pillow. “I want to know more about this ‘Adumbratim Charm’”.

“Oh.” Harry rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I’ve honestly not thought about it that much.”

“Why not? Surely it’s fascinating magical theory?”

“Not to me,” he admits. I’m stunned. How could he not be intrigued by one of the most unexplored paths of magic? “All I really know is that it creates an outline of whatever object I’m thinking of.”

“And that if you can use the Dark Arts effectively that you can make the object real. Out of thin air!” I exclaim. “That’s amazing!”

“It’s weird. I don’t want to be capable in dark magic. It kind of goes against everything I’ve done my entire life at Hogwarts,” Harry admits. He turns around, swinging his legs up so that he is now next to me. He lies down and rests his head on my pillow. 

“I guess so…” I muse. “I’d still like to study it a bit though.”

“How would you do that?”

I roll my eyes at him. “I assumed that was obvious?”

I watch as something clicks in his brain. “No.”

“Oh, why not?” I ask. “I desperately want to know more!”

“Then learn it yourself.”

“I don’t know the incantation. Or the wand movement. Or what to focus on. Or-”

“Oh, alright.” Harry gives in and pulls his wand from his jeans pocket.

His lips move silently, his wand barely moving. A ghostly-pale blue outline of a textbook floats just in front of our faces. As I’m watching, the colour strengthens and starts to sparkle in the light from the candle next to us. Harry directs the book-shape over to rest on a space on the bed. I look on, intrigued, as it pops out of existence again. Like it was never there. He drops his wand to his lap and looks at me again. 

“There. What do you think?” Harry tried to seem nonchalant, but I notice the drawn posture and the tightened muscles. He doesn’t want me to think it was bad, or inadequate.

“Amazing. How do you feel?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, did that tire you out? Do you feel different than before you cast it?”

“Um- not really?”

Nodding, I reach over to my bedside table and fetch a slip of parchment and a quill. I start scribbling down notes.

“Again. This time though- something bigger?”

Harry nods, and the outline of a trunk forms in the air. He concentrates really hard as he lowers it to the bed. I peer down at the covers, trying to see if they are dented or affected in any way. They aren’t.

“Interesting,” I murmur to myself as I write again. “Can you try something smaller, like a book again, and place it on me?”

“What?! What if it hurts you?” Harry looks aghast at my suggestion.

“It won’t,” I state. “At least, it shouldn’t,” I add under my breath.

He sighs before repeating his actions. He floats the book—rather smaller than I would’ve liked—over to me, and carefully places it onto my legs. There is nothing. No pressure, no cool or heat, no tingling or odd sensation. 

“Huh,” I intelligibly mumble as I scrawl out even more notes. “We might be here a while, Harry.”

He smiles at me, clearly trying to make up for being walked in on and then not resuming. Oh well. At least I’m getting something done, even if it’s not myself.


	13. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco receives some answers, and finds relief in life for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oml. I can not believe that this is the last chapter. The final part. This work is finished. I am gobsmacked. This has been such a long time for me, and my first major project. I want to thank everyone who’s left kudos, commented, or even just read it and not interacted. I love you guys, and I hope you enjoy this final part! Xx

After spending hours sitting in my dorm, locked behind the circle of curtains, we have finally come to a conclusion for the Adumbratim Charm. 

“So,” I say as I look down at my notes, “it’s a charm that draws its magic from the caster’s Magical Core, and creates an outline of whatever object the caster is thinking about. Normal physics don’t affect it, and it affects nothing in the vicinity.” 

Harry nods, reflecting back on all of the experimenting we did throughout the day. “And it is only dark magic if the caster pushes their Core to actually create the object, as it would be appearing from thin air,” he adds. “That’s amazing.”

“Yeah, but Old Magic usually is.”

“True.” He looks thoughtful. “So how come I can just- do it?”

“I’m not totally sure about that,” I admit. “I mean, your blood is practically pure, and I’ve been told that your mother was quite bright—for a mud- muggleborn especially.” I catch myself.

Harry sighs. “I guess so. But I’d still like to teach other people to be able to do it; see how it works for someone else, you know?”

Before I can agree that that is something we should definitely do, a cat Patronus comes bundling into my curtained-off area of the dorm. The blue fur ball leaps onto the bed between Harry and I and sits down, commanding our attention. 

“Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Potter,” the cat says, flicking its gaze between us. “I would like you both to come up to my office immediately. I believe we have things we need to discuss.” McGonagall’s voice disappears, just as the cat stands up and runs out of the room.

“I guess we’ve been summoned, then,” Harry says.

I nod in agreement and we swiftly pack the experiment equipment away. A flick of my wand removes the charms on my curtain, and it pulls itself open. Harry leads the way out and into the corridor.

“You called us, Headmistress?” He asks as we enter her office. We seem to be in here quite a bit, really. 

“Indeed I did, Mr. Potter.” She stands from behind her desk and walks away from us to a bookshelf. Studying it, she reaches for one of the many books. It’s a little blue one, with the title of ‘The Adumbratim Charm And It’s Dang-’ _ Oh no _ .

“As you have no way of knowing, boys, there are protection charms entwined all over the castle, charms that detect magic. We are constantly monitoring the spells being used. And while some of them are to be expected—ones you learn in class—and others are- not so common,” she raises her eyebrows at us, “there are some that we should never see being cast. Do you have any ideas?” 

I’m gobsmacked. Not only does she know about our use of the Adumbratim Charm, but also apparently of the various sex spells we use. Harry next to me is flushed a deep red, embarrassment written all over his features. He catches my gaze and nods slightly, confirming what I’ve already concluded.  _ Fucking fantastic.  _

“I’m not entirely sure, Headmistress.” It’s not technically a lie. I don’t see why we can’t use the Adumbratim Charm—it’s not dangerous. 

“Oh, I think you do.” She crosses the office to stand before Harry and I, holding the little book before us. “Does this mean anything to you?”

“It’s Old Magic, isn’t it?” I try faux-confusion.

“Indeed it is, Mr. Malfoy. Tell me, what would two boys want with this particular charm?”

“I’m sorry, Headmistress, but I don’t understand.”

McGonagall is growing impatient, if the tensed muscles in her throat give anything away. “Allow me to stop beating around the bush,” she says. “I know you two have been using it for the entire of the afternoon. No, don’t deny it Mr. Potter. What I want to know is why?”

I swallow hard. “Well- you see-”

“It was my idea, McGongall,” Harry cuts in. “I’m the only one who’s been using it, not Draco.”

“I know, the protection charms showed me that, but I also know that he was there the whole time. I repeat- why?”

I sigh, speaking before Harry can interrupt me again. “We were studying it.”

The Headmistress' face flickers to confusion, but she quickly smooths it out again. “Studying it how?” Her face grows red, like she’d rather talk about anything else. 

“I cast it earlier in the term, and Draco saw. He was curious, as he didn’t know much about the charm. So we’ve been experimenting with it.”

“What have you done with it?”

“I created outlines of different objects, and tested how they reacted with the environment around them. It turns out that not much happens, actually.” Harry’s voice grows slightly disappointed towards the end.

“So you didn’t- uh- use it inappropriately?”

Harry turns to me, eyebrows scrunched up when- “Oh! No! Of course not, Headmistress.”

_ Oh. Ooh.  _ “No! We would never!” I rush to confirm. 

“I’m sorry, boys, but I had to assume. I’ve seen your other spells and- your records aren’t exactly clean.” 

It’s my turn for my face to heat, and it must be bright red through my pale skin.  _ The bad record would include cleaning charms, protection charms, stretching charms, lubricating charms, the list goes on. All of which we use for sex. Brilliant.  _

“Well, since you’ve done the research, I’d rather like to see it. Write it up in a report and hand it in to me by tomorrow afternoon. You are dismissed.” The Headmistress walks away from us, taking a seat at her desk again. “Oh, and boys?”

I turn to her, and she gestures me forward. The little book is resting at the edge of her desk, and she pushes it towards me. “Read this as well and add it to the report.”

I nod my head in silent thanks, and flee her office.

~~~~~~~~

“Well, lets get to work,” Harry says from opposite the table. The library was our first port-of-call since McGonagall interrogated us, and we are trying to knuckle down and get some work done. The report needs to be completed by tomorrow, after all.  _ Bloody unfair time limit.  _

Harry starts whispering his findings to me, and I jot down little notes on a spare piece of parchment. Hours worth of experimenting and only half a foot has been accomplished. 

“Is that all we have?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Harry confirms. “I thought we would’ve had more.”

“Mmm,” I hum. “We’ll have to make it work.”

We take it in turns to come up with sentences, Harry starting it off and me finishing the paragraph. The introduction doesn’t take that long, my neat handwriting filling up a couple of lines. I let Harry read it over, and he nods happily. 

“That’s good so far. Now for the hard part.”

Sighing, I start to organise our notes into something resembling structure. Then I have to extend on all of them, adding in the setting we performed the experiments in and every variable that could have altered the results. It’s a long and tiring process, but we manage to get over half of the report finished. Dusting my hands off and casting spells to remove messy ink blots off both my hands and the parchment, Harry and I start packing up. 

Dusk has set in by the time we part ways, and I watch Harry’s retreating back as he walks into his own dorm. Smiling, I enter mine. Blaise is nowhere to be found, and for that I am eternally grateful. The bastard had tried to beat me up before bed multiple times. The only thing that stopped him were my impressive shields all over myself and my side of the room. Rumour has it that he’s been expelled, but I probably would’ve heard about it by now if that was true. I can just imagine the number of howlers from his parents. Shuddering, I slip into my nightclothes and under the covers of my bed. I prefer to think that he’s been moved to a different room under suspension, and that he’ll be as good as on probation for the remainder of the year. Sighing, I close my eyes and wish for sleep to arrive.

The next morning, word has gotten around Hogwarts about the Adumbratim Charm. No one knows who cast it nor who started the rumour, so I’m quite safe for the meanwhile. Although, once the report-turned-essay is submitted I doubt it will stay that way. Breakfast is mundane affair. Pansy looks at me from across the room, her Ravenclaw friends next to her. The boy she was dating broke up with her yesterday, and it’s evident how upset she is. Red rims her eyes from tears and her face is creased with lines. Despite this, she is laughing with the girls on either side of her. I am glad she met people who care for her, but I do regret letting her leave me. She seems to as well, if her gaze says anything about how she’s feeling. 

Today, the results for the Defence Against the Dark Arts assignment are supposed to be released. Thoughts and questions about my marks fill my head, and I turn to look at Harry. Granger and Weasley surround him, cheerfully joking and shaking exasperated heads. Harry looks like he’ll die from embarrassment, and I wonder what they’re talking about. Deciding that it’s none of my business, I turn away again. I have plenty of time to see him regardless. I should let him have some time with his friends. 

Glancing down the Slytherin table though, I feel utterly alone. I no longer belong here. My father has made it perfectly clear that I’m not wanted at home, despite Mother’s insistence. Everyone who was friendly once doesn’t even notice me, pretending I don’t exist is their favourite game. And now that I’m publicly with Harry, I’m considered even more of a traitor. I used to wish that everything would change after the war. That people that used to be up to their throats in dark magic could come back to the light, but I’ve been proven wrong. Yes, I made the switch, but no one else has. To them, I belong in hell, and they aren’t shy of saying so. Yet I don’t let myself go down that road of thought. I don’t deserve to die for finding happiness in Harry, and anyone who says otherwise is cruel, and not worth my attention.

~~~~~~~~

Professor Falco’s hair is not braided back today, but is instead left to fall down her back in a cascade of red. Piles of parchment are clutched in her hands. Our assignments. “Good morning, class.”

Whispers rise throughout the room as she turns around to face us. A smile is obvious on her usually strict face. 

“As you are all most likely aware, today you are receiving your results.” She places the parchment on her desk and uses the duplicating charm to make a second copy of the entire pile. It takes a second to figure it out, but once I do its rather obvious why. We submitted our tasks in pairs, but we all need marks. 

“I will call out your name, and you are to come to me and relieve the assignment you submitted. Tucked inside the first page will be your result sheet with everything I’ve done on it. You are not to look at it until everyone has got their marks, and you are not to share them within this class. Understood?” 

Everyone nods along, usual protocol, then. 

“Susan Bones!” Professor Falco calls out the first student, and Bones makes her way to the front of the class. Her footsteps echo in the near-silent room, and her face gives no nerves away as she collects her assignment. Eyes follow her as she sits back down, and the Hufflepuff Representative scowls until people turn away. 

“Dean Thomas!” Thomas copies Bones’ example, walking up to the Professor’s desk and quietly taking his results. 

This process is a long and tiring one, and people start getting restless. 

“Kevin Wentwhistle!” The Ravenclaw boy crosses the room, grinning as pretends to peek his marks. That earns him a light slap from Falco. 

“Harry Potter!” The room settles down again as Harry stands on slightly shaky legs. No one else would notice the tremble, but I’ve learned how to read him in a way others won’t ever understand. His face gives nothing away though as he takes his copy of our assignment and walks back to his desk. He smiles at me, reassuring me that we’ll have done fine. 

“Ernie McMillan!” Falco calls out the name and I watch as the Hufflepuff relieves his marks. He looks like he’s about to be sick, and hurriedly sits down again.

“Eloise Midgen!” Bones’ partner stands up, the first of the duplicated pile vanishing into her hand. Names are called out for another ten minutes, the long process seemingly stretching for hours. 

“Tracey Davis!” I must be soon, and my nerves grow in intensity until I can barely think.

“Wayne Hopkins!” 

“Draco Malfoy!” I feel utterly sick as I rise from my seat, but I school my face and pace up to Professor Falco. She hands me my parchment and leans in to whisper something to me. “Mr. Malfoy, you have nothing to be worried about.” She nods as she gives me a slight push, and I walk back to my desk feeling slightly better. Only slightly though, as she clearly saw through my normally perfect mask. Harry’s gaze is boring holes into me again, and when I twist to see him he smiles softly. A small, private lift of his lips just for me to know. I return it.

“Seamus Finnigan!”

Class is eventually dismissed, and Harry immediately crosses over to me. He wraps me into a comforting hug, but I force myself away. I’m still not a fan of public affection, especially after what happened at the Halloween Party. He seems to understand though, as he doesn’t look offended in the least. He pulls a chair over a sits next to me. My hand reaches for his under the desk, and I clutch at it. My anchor.

“Three,” he starts counting down, his hand moving to rest in the parchment. “Two,” his fingers slip to side, tucking under the first sheet. “One.” Harry rips open the page, and I do the same. I stare down at the marks in front of me. There is a giant, red, ‘O’. O for Okay. O for On-target. O for Operable. But most importantly, O for Outstanding.

Waves of delight and joy wash over me, and my face flushed with happiness. Without thinking, I pull at Harry and plant a kiss on his cheek. It’s just a little, quick peck, lips barely touching, but it feels amazing. It feels like the first time. He grins at me, before returning the favour. I feel myself flushing with only somewhat something different. Right now, I feel on top of the world. 

“I hope everyone is happy with their results!” Professor Falco calls out into the rapidly rising noise of the classroom. “Have a pleasant holiday and enjoy your Christmas. Class dismissed!”

Right. Christmas is soon. Hold on. Tomorrow is our last day! 

“How the fuck did I forget that term is nearly over?” I say as I turn back to Harry.

“I did too,” he laughs. “We were so busy being House Representatives, playing Quidditch, and studying. Plus you had tutoring to do. I’m surprised I can even remember the days of the week!”

“I guess so.” I think bitterly of the Manor waiting for me, and parents who’d rather I wasn’t there. I sigh. “The holidays will suck.”

“How come?” Harry asks. Despite how close we have become, I haven’t actually revealed anything that happening at home. 

“My father sucks, is how come,” I groan. “He would rather me dead, and he won’t let Mother talk to me. The only reason I’ not disowned is because of her insistence.”

“That’s dreadful, Draco.” A look crosses over his face, his skin scrunching up in thought. “Well- I have a house.”

“Bravo?”

“You could stay with me?” He looks nervous, like he instantly regrets asking for fear of rejection.

“Could I?” I want to make absolutely sure. “What about the Weasley’s? I thought you were staying with them.”

“Not officially. I’m an adult now. I just visit them an awful lot.”

“Would that have to change if I stay with you?”

“I don’t see why not. You wouldn’t have to go with me.”

“I want to,” I decide. “I want to become closer with your friends.” They have to better than the tosspots of my old ones. 

“Yeah?” He asks, a smile lighting up his features.

“Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~

“Quick!” I shout to Harry, who grabs the parchments of neat writing and races out of the door. McGonagall wanted us in her office an hour ago. Footsteps echo off the stone walls as we sprint through the school, up various staircases, and through multiple shortcuts. It turns out that when we get distracted, we wind up having sex on Harry’s bed with his friends next to us. Thank Merlin for privacy wards, is all I get from this. 

Our faces are blotchy red, breath catching in our throats as we wait on the rotating stairs up to the Headmistress’ office. Her eyebrow is quirked when she catches sight of us, a knowing look in her eye. I don’t know how she knows why we are late, we didn’t use any specifically sexual spells. Although, locking and privacy wards are a pretty good hint…

“I thought you’d never arrive,” she drawls as we stammer into the room. 

Harry slams the finished copy of the report onto her desk. “We got here before Christmas though,” he chuckles. 

“That you did,” she agrees. “Barely.”

I allow myself to truly laugh as she scoops up the parchment and turns it over in her hands.

“This is quite a bit longer than I’d expected.”

“Really?” Harry and I say in unison.

“You discovered this much in one afternoon?”

“Yes?”

“That’s remarkable…” she murmurs, so quiet I thought I’d misheard. 

“Thank you.”

“Oh! Congratulations on the O’s, boys.”

“Thank you, Headmistress!” Harry beams at both her and I.

“I will read over this during Christmas,” McGonagall decided out loud. “And if it’s fine with both of you, I might like to send this off to professional researches so they can use your findings?”

“That would be incredible!” I exclaim, turning to catch Harry’s expression. Pride is written all over his face. And it’s directed at me, if his private smile says anything. I let a matching one cover my features, because I’m proud of him too. He’s the one who did the spellwork after all, I just wrote everything down.

“Okay. I will owl you boys.” She looks thoughtful for a moment. “Gemino,” she incantates, and creates two more copies. Passing them to us she says, “One each for both of you.” We nod our thanks and turn to leave the office. “Have a lovely holiday, Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy.”

~~~~~~~~

Hogwarts corridors are once again empty, students loitering all over the grounds. Trunks are in neat piles and lines, and people are shouting promises to write to the other. It’s both happy and melancholy. Another term is done. We get to go home and relax. But we also aren’t seeing the people we’ve grown used to seeing, and boredom will inevitably set in. Harry stands a short distance away, talking animatedly to his friends. Granger and Weasley are smiling, arms wrapped around each other. When they rush through ‘see you later‘s and ‘see you on the train, mate’ I catch myself smiling. I don’t know why, but I’m happy. 

Harry spins around, bracing himself for an onslaught of people. And just as he’d expected, there is. Smiling his way through it all, he signs about a million objects and shakes lots of hands. I never thought it was possible before this term, but he also has a mask. A façade that he wears when confronted by his fans. His smile still reaches his eyes, but the creases that I love are nowhere to be seen. It looks real, but when you actually know him, you can see minuscule cracks in the plaster. I grin, evidence of his humanity right before me. 

Arms wrap around my waist, drawing me back to hit someone’s chest. I must zoned out, because when I whip around with an insult in place I’m instead kissed full on the mouth. Shea butter, amber, and cypress wood. The three unique scents of Harry. The ones he’s carefully chosen to present himself with. It’s a strange combination, and no one else would be able to pull it off. But on him, it smells heavenly. Breaking apart is hard but necessary, and we smile at each other like idiots. I can’t believe I’m in love with this nitwit.  _ Love… _ When did I decide that? I don’t know, but it rings true. I am. 

The Hogwarts Express whistles, signalling to everyone to board the train. Harry and I enter it hand-in-hand, warmth spreading up my body and into my heart. His fire is slowly evaporating the raging ocean inside me. It almost has already. I’m no longer the mess of deep, dark water with rough waves and unpredictable swells. But rather, a calming waterfall that flows steadily with happiness and care, not anger or sadness. It’s amazing how much Harry has helped stabilize me. Finding a car on the train is easy as we are some of the first on, and we settle down into our seat. Granger and Weasley eventually find their way into the car as well, sitting opposite us. They fall asleep on each other quickly, leaving Harry and I to watch as the train pulls away from the castle. 

The stark contrast a term can make. When I arrived, I was bitter, lonely, and out of place. I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. Now, I’m cheerful and satisfied. I’ve lost all of the people that we shit to me, and replaced with someone with likes me for me, despite everywhere. I don’t have to go back to the Manor and deal with my father and everything he brings with him, or watch as Mother is forced to listen to him. I should ask Harry about that, but it can wait another day. I won’t tell him how I truly feel, at least not yet. It’s too early, too intense and frightening. Love is a strong word, and I don’t want to scare him away. But as I snuggle into his side and rest my head on his shoulder, his arms around me, I’m content as I am. I don’t need to spill everything out to him. It’s not necessary right now. And I may not have the answers to everything, but I have a lot more than I used to. And right now, I’m happy with that. I’m no longer Conflicted.

~~~~~~~~

_ ~fin _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Xx


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